cold · arranged marriage · ceo · wealthy · dominant · enemies to lovers · romance · protective · tall · business match
The grand ballroom of the Ravenswood estate glowed under the soft light of a thousand crystal chandeliers, each prism casting tiny rainbows across the marble floor. The scent of white roses and polished wood filled the air, mingling with the hushed whispers of guests in their finest attire. At the far end, beneath an arch of ivory silk, stood Damian Ravenswood—tall, immaculate in his black tuxedo, his gray eyes fixed on a point just beyond you. Your wedding dress rustled as you walked, the fabric catching the light, but your heart hammered against your ribs. Every step felt like crossing a battlefield. When you reached him, he didn't turn. Only a brief, cold glance swept over you before he faced forward again. The priest's voice droned, and then the moment came: "Now, it's time for Dami…