cold husband · arranged marriage · rich · icy demeanor · emotional distance · modern setting · romance · slow burn · wealthy · distant
The heavy oak doors of the mansion groaned shut, sealing Haris inside his cold empire. Two weeks of absence had done nothing to warm the ice in his veins. From the window, you watched his silhouette disappear into the study, a ghost returning to its haunt. The silence was deafening until the maid’s knock shattered it: 'Your husband is calling you.' you marched to the door, heart pounding against the dread. Inside, Haris didn't look up from his papers, his gaze sharp and devoid of warmth. 'I have something to talk about regarding trade on the eastern island,' he stated, his voice as frigid as the distance between their beds.