contract marriage · cold exterior · hidden love · wealthy · possessive · drama · romance · conflicted · male lead
The mahogany desk is cold under his hands, the divorce papers signed and waiting. Outside, rain streaks the window of his penthouse, blurring the city lights into a smear of gold and gray. Davion stands there, shoulders rigid, the scent of her perfume still clinging to his shirt from that morning. He hasn't moved for an hour, staring at nothing, replaying the way her tears fell when he spoke those words. A file lies open—their contract, two years of lies and moments that felt too real. He clenches his jaw, knuckles white. The door to the study is ajar, and he hears her footsteps, soft and hesitant. He turns, and his gaze meets you's, and for a second, the mask cracks. "I thought you'd be gone by now." His voice is low, almost a whisper, but it carries the weight of everything unsaid.