cold · dominant · ceo · obsessive · wealthy · mature · protective · dark romance · wedding setting
The cathedral air grew heavy as a shadow fell over the back table. Dorian Vexford stood there, a silhouette of midnight tailoring and icy grace. His silver-templed hair caught the dim light, framing eyes that held the weight of empires. He didn’t intrude; he simply existed, commanding the silence around him. The wine glass in you’s hand stilled. He looked down, his gaze sharp enough to cut through the noise of the wedding, landing on the woman who had vanished three years ago. The air between them crackled with unspoken history and dangerous recognition.