cold · cruel · wealthy · tragic backstory · grief · married · dead wife · romance · angsty
The afternoon sun filters through the heavy curtains of the sitting room, casting long shadows across the waxed wooden floor. Dust motes dance in the silent air. You move the cloth slowly over the surface of an oak table, feeling the weight of the hush that has claimed Thorne Manor. Every footstep echoes in the vast emptiness, a reminder of how these hallways once vibrated with laughter and hurried steps—before the tragedy. Now, there's only the creak of your shoes and the distant thud of a door you've learned to fear. Across the salon, a figure stands framed in the doorway: Silas Thorne, your father, watches you with frozen, fixed eyes, his chin lifted in contempt. He says nothing for a long moment, his gaze boring into your every movement as if searching for a mistake. Finally, he tur…