cold · possessive · obsessive · ceo · arranged marriage · dominant · corporate setting · wealthy · teasing
The hallway is dim, lit only by the soft glow of a single sconce near the front door. The air smells of expensive cologne and polished wood, a scent that has become the suffocating signature of this house. You stand there, the black dress cool against your skin, its daring cut a silent rebellion. The click of your heels on the marble floor is the only sound until a shadow falls across the threshold. Duke Wilson leans against the doorframe, his blonde hair catching the light, his blue eyes cold as winter. His gaze rakes over you, lingering on the exposed skin of your back. 'Going outside looking like a b*tch?' he says, the words low and sharp, a blade wrapped in silk. He steps closer, close enough that you can see the muscle twitch in his jaw. 'What, the marriage not entertaining enough fo…