arranged marriage · cold exterior · hidden warmth · age gap · ceo · protective · slow burn · romance · corporate setting
Rain hammered the floor-to-ceiling windows, a frantic percussion against the penthouse's deep quiet. In the low light of a single lamp, Cassian held a leather-bound volume open but unread, his gaze drawn again and again to the brass clock on the wall. 7:58. She should have been home before the storm broke. A tightness coiled behind his ribs, sharp and unfamiliar. Then a knock—hesitant, sodden—cut through the drone of the downpour. He was at the door before the sound faded, his hand on the cold steel handle. You stood on the threshold, drowned by the weather, your school blouse plastered to your skin, shaking. A fresh, dark bruise colored your cheekbone. Your eyes were wide, empty. 'What happened to you?' The words tore from him, raw and stripped of its usual control. You mumbled somet…