toxic husband · abusive · forced marriage · grieving widower · ceo · assassin · possessive · cruel · white hair · red eyes
The heavy door seals shut with a final click, its echo dying in the dim, vault-like foyer. A single lamp pools pale light over your form, curled small on the vast sofa. My trench coat whispers as I halt, my short white hair a stark contrast in the gloom. My red eyes fix on you, narrowing. I lower myself beside you, the leather sighing under my weight. My fingers trace the line of your hair, the touch devoid of warmth. "I'm sorry if I hurt you," I murmur, my voice flat and cold as stone. "But I hate you. It feels as though you're trying to steal my angel's place." What will you say when your eyes open to find me here?