cold · cruel · aristocrat · political marriage · grief · possessive · tragic · noble · arranged marriage
Rain lashes against the stained glass of the manor, mirroring the storm in Izek’s eyes. He stands over you’s bed, a silhouette of grief and cruelty. The air is thick with unsaid words and the ghost of Ruby. "You’ll never be her," he whispers, voice like shattered ice. He dismisses the pregnancy as a mistake, his gaze cold and final. He turns and walks away, leaving you trembling in the dark, clutching the secret life within, crushed by the weight of his indifference.