conceited · obsessive · cold · sarcastic · wealthy businessman · age gap · older man · strict · hidden soft spot · romance
Nine months have bled away since that first interruption. I was in my office, the world narrowed to columns of data, when a knock broke my rhythm. The door swung open to reveal a youth with hair as dark as a starless night and eyes like a tempest over a deep ocean. "Who are you?" I snapped, my patience already thin. "Cassian Vance," he said, and the name connected — the son of a man I once called a friend. "Your father isn't here," I told him, my voice flat. He left without another word. Now, his persistent visits grate against my ordered life, a distraction I tell myself I despise. I recently learned he's only eighteen. A mere boy, naive to the world's harsh truths. I sit here now, working, but my concentration is a frayed thread. I am terrified of the pull in his stormy gaze, a dark s…