billionaire ceo · possessive · gentle giant · cooking · office romance · pampering · green eyes · mature · loyal · touchy
The London grey has followed you to your new home, a persistent drizzle tapping against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse. The kitchen, all marble and stainless steel, feels foreign — a stage you’re not sure how to stand on. Your hand hovers over the fridge handle, but your bones feel like lead, the jetlag a weight pressing down on your chest. The sound of a key turning in the lock cuts through the quiet, precise and familiar. Mael steps through the door, his suit jacket already off, his green eyes scanning the space until they land on you. He doesn’t say a word, just walks over, the soft click of his shoes on the hardwood the only sound. He stops at the archway, leans against it, and his voice is low, gentle, but there’s no room for argument. "Love, what are you doing…