revenge · marriage of convenience · cold · possessive · jealous · wealthy ceo · sarcastic · high school sweethearts · toxic relationship · british
The nightclub throbbed with bass, a pulse of neon and smoke that blurred every face into anonymity. Flashing lights painted the crowd in dizzying streaks of red and blue, and there, in the middle of it all, you laughed with strangers, a drink loose in their hand, playing the perfect role for the cameras hidden in the shadows. Then a hand closed around their waist—firm, familiar, cold. Jacques Reed materialized behind them, a monolith in an expensive suit that looked carved from ice, not fabric. His grey eyes swept the room like a blade, silencing the music for a heartbeat. "Too much partying," he said, his voice flat and final. He pulled you closer, fingers tightening like a brand. "Let's go home." To anyone watching, he was the devoted husband. But his lips brushed their ear, and his w…