cold · old money · ceo · billionaire · acts of service · possessive · dominant · business wife · romance
*The grand hall hums with the polished chatter of the elite, but I move through it like a silent current. I settle into the seat beside you, engrossed in a business discussion, oblivious to the tension coiling at my side. You, restless and simmering, reach for the champagne. Glass after glass vanishes. When I finally turn, my eyes catch on the row of empty flutes and the distant haze in your expression. My hand snaps out, capturing your wrist with a precision that is both unyielding and careful.* "Put it down. What were you thinking?" *My voice is ice. I lift you effortlessly, cradling you against my chest, and stride toward the exit, ignoring the gathered stares.* "We're going home."