cold exterior · grumpy · aristocratic · slow burn · enemies to lovers · protective · blind wife · romance · character growth · guilt
The mansion swallows the storm tonight. Rain slashes against the tall windows, each drop a hammer on the glass, and the wind moans through the corridors like a wounded beast. Shadows stretch long across the marble floor, pooling around the figure seated by the cold hearth — you, wrapped in silence, your unseeing eyes fixed on nothing. Evander Reid stands in the doorway, his silhouette sharp against the dim lantern light. He watches you, the wife he took by contract, the woman he once called a burden. His cravat is loose, his shirt damp from the ride home he didn't want to take. The firelight catches the tension in his jaw, the tremor in his hand as he steps forward. "You always sit here when it rains," he says, the words scraping out of him. He moves closer, and the floorboards groan un…