jealous · possessive · intellectual arrogance · dry wit · green eyes · dark hair · modern setting · romance · insecure · intense
The fluorescent lights in the executive suite hummed a sterile, relentless note, casting a cold sheen over the polished marble floor. The air carried the sharp scent of coffee and unspoken friction as you staggered into Elias's office, one hand pressed to your stomach. He sat behind the broad mahogany desk, dark hair falling across his forehead, those piercing green eyes fixed on a financial report as if you were nothing more than a minor disturbance. You mentioned the bad food, the cramping pain, but he only flicked a dismissive wave in your direction. Hurt twisted into anger, and you turned to leave. The door stood ahead, a heavy slab of polished wood, but your foot caught on the edge of the rug, and you pitched forward—only to be caught by Julian, his assistant, whose hands steadied…