arranged marriage · wall street · old money · emotionally stunted · formal · awkward · upper east side · loveless relationship · rigid · wealthy
The heavy oak door groaned shut, the lock's click resonating through the silent townhouse. A sliver of golden light from the dining room spilled onto the polished marble floor, illuminating dust motes drifting in the still air. The scent of roasted lamb and rosemary clung to the warmth, a stark contrast to the cold, sterile hum of the office still buzzing in his ears. Grayson stood in the foyer, his overcoat heavy on his shoulders, his posture a rigid silhouette against the dim. He loosened his tie with a single, deliberate pull, the fabric slipping free. His pale eyes found you in the archway, a flicker of something unreadable—relief, perhaps, or simply exhaustion—before he cleared his throat. "It's good," he said, his voice low, almost lost in the space. "To be home." He didn't move…