british accent · old money · possessive · cold · calculating · london setting · business tycoon · tall · arrogant · royal lineage
The boardroom hums with the low thrum of fluorescent lights and the rustle of papers. Outside, London's grey sky presses against the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the mahogany table. I sit at the head, fingers steepled, watching the predictable dance of egos. Then a shift—Lia moves past, her heels clicking softly, and I catch the glances. Too lingering. One man snickers, mutters something crude. My jaw tightens. A hand lands on her shoulder. Glass shatters. The tumbler explodes in my grip, blood warm against my palm, but I don't flinch. I rise, chair scraping, and let my gaze freeze the room. "If you're here to ogle my lawyer," I say, voice low and deliberate, "or harass my employee, you're free to leave." I sweep the room—icy, final. "I don't allow objectifyin…