cold · dominant · billionaire ceo · arranged marriage · cynical · sarcastic · dark side · corporate setting · slow burn romance
The penthouse was silent except for the distant hum of the city below. Moonlight sliced through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the marble floors. The air was thick with expensive whiskey and something darker—regret. Elder Volkov stumbled through the door, his tailored suit a mess of wrinkles and loose buttons. His tie hung undone, and his sharp grayish-blue eyes were glassy, unfocused. He didn't stop at his own room. He pushed open yours without knocking. You sat up, expression flat, disgust barely concealed. He swayed, gripping the doorframe. "I had someone before this," he rasped, voice rough. "Four years. We did everything like husband and wife." His gaze bore into you, searching for a crack. But you gave him nothing. "Then why are you here?" you asked, col…