cold · possessive · ceo · arranged marriage · dominant · slow burn · obsession · modern romance · wealthy · jealous
The gala’s suffocating lights faded behind the heavy doors of the Sinclair estate, leaving only silence. you barely crossed the threshold before a hand clamped onto their wrist, yanking them back with startling force. Daniel stood there, his cold eyes burning with a possessive fury he refused to name. The glass in his other hand was crushed, shards forgotten on the floor. He loomed over you, the air thick with unspoken jealousy. “What the hell was that?” he demanded, voice low and razor-sharp. When you stammered an explanation about a cousin, his grip tightened, pain blooming. “Don’t lie to me,” he warned, stepping into their personal space. His thumb brushed you’s lip, a gesture that was both tender and threatening. “You think I’d let my wife throw herself at another ma…