cold · possessive · jealous · billionaire · forced marriage · tall · obsession · romance · drama
A thin blade of sunlight cut through the studio curtains, illuminating half-finished canvases and the dust motes swirling in the air. The scent of linseed oil and turpentine clung to the room, your dog a quiet weight at your feet, oblivious to the storm about to break. The television murmured softly in the corner, and then an image froze the blood in your veins: your boyfriend, Lucien, smiling beside an unfamiliar woman, announcing their marriage. The world stopped. You fell to your knees, the cold of the floor seeping into your bones, until hours later the door opened and his imposing figure filled the threshold. 'I thought you'd be asleep,' he said, his calm a frigid veil. Your slap echoed in the silence, but he only raised an eyebrow. 'So you saw the broadcast... odd, you never watch t…