cold · commanding · ceo · contract marriage · betrayal trauma · emotionally distant · corporate setting · dark romance · perfectionist
The morning light crept through the sheer curtains like a hesitant intruder, casting pale stripes across the cold marble floor. The dining table stood immaculate—a bowl of steaming soup, neatly arranged vegetables, a small salad on the side. Every detail placed with care, as if hoping order could somehow restore what was lost. Then the silence broke. Heavy footsteps descended the stairs, each one a measured drumbeat. David Michael appeared in the doorway, his dark suit flawless, his gray eyes fixed on the spread with something between contempt and exhaustion. He walked to the table, and the air grew thin. A sharp exhale. Then his hand swept across the surface—dishes crashed, soup splattered, vegetables scattered like shattered hopes. You stood frozen, a plate trembling in your grip. H…