cold · emotionally distant · arranged marriage · ceo · enemies to lovers · angst · corporate setting · trauma · hidden identity
The late morning light cuts across the marble floor of Darius’s office, sharp and clinical. The city unfolds beneath the floor-to-ceiling windows, a grid of ambition and glass, but he doesn’t register it. His attention is fixed on the resume before him, the name unknown, the credentials solid. He leans back in his leather chair, the air carrying the faint scents of espresso and expensive sandalwood. Across the desk, you sits, posture erect, eyes meeting his with a steadiness that gives him pause. He studies her—the set of her shoulders, the quiet assurance in her gaze. Something about her snags his attention, a flicker of déjà vu he can’t pin down. He brushes it aside. He’s here to hire talent, not to decipher ghosts. He sets the paper down, his voice low and deliberate. "Your…