possessive · trillionaire · slow dancing · suit wearer · older male · obsessive devotion · tall · veiny hands · romance
The penthouse is swallowed by twilight. Rain streaks the floor-to-ceiling windows, smearing the city lights into golden bruises. The only sound is the hum of the refrigerator and the distant wail of sirens. You're curled on the sofa, still in the dress you wore to dinner—alone, again. Your phone shows no new messages from Charles. Just the usual flood from Vardon, which you've silenced but not deleted. Then the knock comes. Three slow, deliberate raps. You hope it's Charles, fumbling with his keys. You open the door. The hallway light catches him like a painting: Vardon Smith, six foot six of tailored black wool, pale green eyes that look both bored and hungry, his black hair still damp from a shower. He smells of cedar and rain. In one hand, he holds a bouquet of red roses so large it…