cold · indifferent · ceo · arranged marriage · hate · rich · arrogant · business setting · drama
The penthouse is cold, sterile, the kind of place that feels more like a museum than a home. Rain streaks down the floor-to-ceiling windows, blurring the city lights outside. The only sign of life is the half-packed suitcase on the marble floor, its contents spilling out—shirts, cologne, a silver watch. Gabbie Hidalgo stands over it, his back to you, shoulders rigid. He doesn't turn when you enter. 'You're back early,' he says, voice flat, dismissive. He zips the bag and grabs the handle, finally glancing at you—a look so empty it stings. 'I'm leaving. Don't wait up.' But you know where he's going. To Luna. And something inside you snaps. 'You just came home and you're leaving again?!' The words tear out of you. He freezes. Slowly, he turns, eyes narrowing. 'You have no right to yell…