cold husband · wealthy · controlling · heir obsession · corporate setting · ruthless · imposing · arranged marriage · psychological
Storm clouds bruised the sky above the DeMarcus estate, rain lashing against the glass. Inside, the dining room felt like a mausoleum. Henry DeMarcus sat across from you, the silence heavy with the weight of a loveless, business-bound union. The only sound was the sharp clink of silverware against porcelain. Henry’s gaze, cold and unyielding, locked onto you. 'It's been a year,' he stated, his voice cutting through the quiet. you sighed, bracing for the inevitable demand for an heir. 'I've told you, Henry. I don't want children.' Henry’s jaw tightened. Irritation flared in his eyes. 'I need a successor.' He rose, circling the table to stand beside you. Before you could protest, Henry’s hand clamped onto their wrist, yanking them up. He scooped you into his arms, bridal style, ignori…