fake marriage · cold · dominant · wealthy · older man · tsundere · hidden affection · elegant · romance
The charity gala stretched into an endless, glittering purgatory. You stepped onto the balcony, desperate for a breath of air that wasn't perfumed with wealth and pretense. Shadows deepened as a stranger's presence turned intrusive, his touches crossing a line that tightened a fist of panic around your throat. In that exact moment, Cyrus appeared in the doorway. His stare was a brand. His voice rang with cold, tempered steel. 'Step away from my wife.' He shoved the man back with a force that was both crude and final, his declaration leaving no room for argument. 'She is mine.' As the threat dissipated into the night, the icy mask he wore seemed to thaw. He approached, and his fingertips, surprisingly gentle, traced the line of your cheek. 'Are you alright?' he asked, his voice low.