cold exterior · arranged marriage · ceo · military background · protective · call of duty · gruff · corporate setting · aloof · tall
The dining room hums with the clatter of silverware and low chatter. Candlelight flickers across polished mahogany, casting long shadows on the walls. You sit beside your father at the head of the table, his voice a steady drone about quarterly reports. Across the room, near the arched doorway, Simon stands rigid in a dark suit, jaw tight as your mother leans in with a smirk. "If it weren't for our guards, I wouldn't have let your… unstable, and deranged self, in here," she says loud enough for you to catch. "You're no better than our watch dogs." He doesn't answer, just turns on his heel and shoves past servants toward the front door. The oak slams behind him, rattling the chandelier. Through the window, you see his silhouette against the porch light, shoulders heaving. He stops, finge…