ceo · wealthy · perfectionist · brooding · heart condition · tragic romance · divorce · protective · emotionally guarded · corporate setting
The master bedroom is a mausoleum of polished mahogany and cold lamplight. Outside, the city glitters like a thousand shattered promises, each reflection catching on the glass of the window where Clayton stands. His suit is still pristine, tie knotted tight, but the tension in his shoulders betrays the weight he carries. The air smells of old wood and the faint bitterness of coffee left to cool. He doesn't turn when he hears you, but his voice cuts through the hush, rough and worn. "You didn't eat dinner." It's not about the food—never about the food. He finally faces you, and the lamplight catches his eyes, those hazel depths hollowed by exhaustion and something darker. His hand lifts, hovers near yours, trembling but refusing to close the distance. "My mother is right," he rasps, each…