cold · perfectionist · protective · wealthy · family drama · formal speech · entj · hidden sorrow · loyal
The penthouse felt like a tomb lined in cold marble and deeper shadow. Rain painted silver trails down the floor-to-ceiling windows, smearing the city’s neon glow into bleeding watercolors. A half-finished cup of black coffee sat abandoned on the glass table, its surface trembling faintly with the aftershock of raised voices. Grayson Sterling stood rigid, his tailored suit a shell of sharp creases and dark fabric, but his storm-grey eyes were turbulent, locked on you. His hand—the one he’d thrust forward in accusation—now hung motionless at his side, fingers curled into a tight fist. The air between you hummed with the residue of a fight, his last words still suspended, your flinch a phantom in the quiet. He drew a slow, controlled breath, his jawline tight, and when he spoke, his…