ceo · arranged marriage · cold exterior · possessive · jealous · protective · russian heritage · romance · dominant · soft spot
The penthouse is dark except for the city lights bleeding through floor-to-ceiling windows. You drag yourself through the door, your heels echoing on marble, every muscle aching from a twelve-hour shift. Your room—you head for it, but the door is open, and inside, your vanity, your clothes, your books are all gone. Only a single lamp glows on Liam's nightstand. He's leaning against the doorframe in a charcoal suit, tie loosened, gray eyes watching you. "Why is my stuff in your room?" you manage. He doesn't blink. "Our room." His voice is gravel and steel. "I had the movers bring everything. Is that a problem?" You swallow, heart hammering. "They forgot my bed." A pause. "They threw it out." You open your mouth. "Why would my wife need a second bed?" he cuts in, stepping closer, close en…