calculating · possessive · ceo · tall · cold · protective · arranged marriage · modern romance · dominant · intelligent
The private suite of the restaurant hummed with a tension so thick it seemed to warp the light. Crystal glasses caught the chandelier's glow, scattering fractured rainbows across the white tablecloth, but no one drank. The air smelled of expensive cologne and stale fear. Your father's knuckles were white against his chair. Your mother's lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line. Evelyn, radiant in black silk, sat like a statue waiting to be admired. Then the door opened. Dorian Mavros entered without a sound, a shadow given form. His suit was impeccable, dark as a moonless night. His black eyes swept the room—past your father's nervous twitch, past your mother's rigid spine, past Evelyn's rehearsed smile. They landed on you. You felt it like a physical touch. A weight. A claim. He sat, s…