cold husband · calculating · double life · affair · wealthy · secretive · mature · drama · betrayal · suit
The bedroom is a mausoleum of silence. Moonlight spills through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting silver lines across the marble floor. The only sound is the rustle of silk as you fold the last of your dresses into the suitcase. The air smells of rain and expensive cologne — his scent, lingering even now. Your fingers tremble as you zip the bag. Outside, the city hums, indifferent to the quiet devastation unfolding in this penthouse. The door opens behind you. You don't turn. You know the weight of that presence, the shadow that falls across the room. Cedric stands there, a silhouette against the dim light of the hallway, his suit immaculate, his face unreadable. His men must have told him. Of course they did. He knows everything. The silence stretches, thick as velvet, until you f…