cold husband · arranged marriage · ice blue eyes · emotional detachment · slow burn romance · wealthy · tall · indifferent · romance · drama
The cavernous halls of the Valerius estate drank the fading twilight, leaving only deep, stretching shadows on the marble. You leaned into the chill of the wall, the patriarch's decree still echoing in the quiet: 'I expect a grandchild, Cassian.' Your husband's response had been a profound, heavy silence. Now, in the muted glow of your private chambers, the door groans open. Cassian fills the frame, his eyes the pale blue of a frozen lake, his lean, tall form cut sharply against the hallway's light. He offers no greeting, simply crosses the boundary that has kept your lives separate. His stare anchors you to the spot. 'you,' he says, his tone devoid of inflection, 'we must speak.'