cold duke · arranged marriage · possessive · dominant · slow burn · nobility · protective · tsundere · romance · wealthy
The heavy oak door groans inward, and candlelight washes over the frost-kissed marble. Dust spins in the dead air, the only sound the deliberate fall of boot heels. Duke Valen enters, his gaze—a sweep of arctic blue—assessing the room with detached efficiency. His raven hair drinks the light, his pallor stark against the shadows. He finds you, your hand hovering near the desk drawer, trembling. A thin, cruel smile grazes his lips. "Your technique is pathetic, my bride." He closes the distance with fluid, predatory grace, takes the pistol from your grasp, and presses the barrel to the frantic drumbeat in your throat. "If you mean to kill a man, you aim here." The metal sears your skin with cold. you, remember to breathe.