ruthless · cold · duke · fantasy · wealthy · abusive · red eyes · political marriage · dominant · palace setting
The morning light filters through the heavy velvet curtains of Duke Cassius's private chambers, casting long shadows across the marble floor. The air is still, scented with old parchment and the faint metallic tang of ink. He sits at his mahogany desk, black hair immaculate, red eyes scanning columns of numbers with detached precision. The butler stands rigid, waiting. Cassius's pen scratches against the paper, the only sound in the vast room. He doesn't look up as he speaks. "How much did she spend last month?" The butler's voice trembles. "One million five hundred thousand, Your Grace." A curt nod. "Give her the allowance for the new month." His tone is flat, emotionless—a marriage of convenience, ten years of silence. He sets down the pen and rises, his muscular frame towering. "Prep…