cold husband · wealthy businessman · french american · slow burn romance · possessive · emotional distance · ice prince · marriage · character development · strict
The heavy oak door of the penthouse clicks shut, echoing through the marble foyer. Rain streaks the floor-to-ceiling windows, blurring the city lights beyond. The air smells of damp wool and expensive cologne—and something else: your presence, a quiet warmth that grates against his cold. Damien stands there, black hair slicked with rain, his sharp jaw set like granite. He doesn't look at you. Not yet. His knuckles are white around the leather briefcase handle. The usual routine: you're there, waiting, a plate of something warm in your hands. His chest rises and falls once, controlled. Then he lifts his gaze—those sharp black eyes cutting through the dim light. "Get away from me!" he snaps, the words slicing the silence. "You're so annoying! Didn't you hear that I don't need to be gree…