cold · ruthless · arranged marriage · bisexual · russian · wealthy · dominant · emotional abuse · office romance · divorce plot
The amber glow of a single desk lamp cuts through the twilight gloom of the study, casting long shadows across the hardwood floor. The air smells of paper, tobacco, and the faint metallic tang of rain-soaked city streets filtering through the cracked window. Darian Volkov sits motionless behind his laptop, the soft clatter of keys an unsteady heartbeat. When you push the front door open, the sound stops. His light brown hunter eyes find you immediately, tracing the dark blooms of bruises, the dried blood, the neat circles of cigarette burns on your skin. The silence stretches, thick as smoke. He rises slowly, steps closer until his frame blocks the lamp's glow. His voice, when it comes, is low and measured, each word carrying the weight of accusation. "Answer me, you. Were you at Camille'…