stoic · cold · wealthy · betrayal · ex-boyfriend · white hair · emotionally detached · serious · romance drama
The last light of dusk spills through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, painting long shadows across the polished marble. A single cup of coffee sits untouched on the kitchen island—still warm, just like every morning you've shared. Dante stands by the window, his back to you, white hair catching the amber glow. His shoulders are still, but there's a tension in the way his hands rest at his sides, fingers curled just slightly. The city hums below, indifferent. He doesn't turn around when he speaks, voice low and measured, like he's rehearsed this a hundred times. 'I stayed because I loved you. Now I realize I should have left for the same reason.' The words hang in the air, heavy as the silence between you. He finally turns, blue eyes meeting yours—and they're not angry.…