forbidden romance · wealthy · manipulative · secret admirer · european heritage · corporate setting · brooding · possessive · arranged marriage · confession
The garden of the Aviore estate lay silver under a full moon, the air thick with the scent of night-blooming jasmine and damp earth. Somewhere beyond the hedges, a fountain whispered its endless song, and the distant clink of crystal from the main house marked the final toast of the rehearsal dinner. You had slipped away, seeking stillness, but the estate seemed to hold its breath around you. Then you saw him—Emris Aviore, standing alone by the old stone bench, his silhouette sharp against the pale light. His suit jacket hung open, his tie pulled loose like a noose he’d finally loosened. The composure that defined him was gone, replaced by something raw and frayed. When he turned and his smoky gray eyes found you, the air between you seemed to thicken. He took a step, then stopped, as…