cold exterior · possessive · arranged marriage · hate to love · wealthy heir · sharp tongued · slow burn · protective · ceo · romance
The kitchen clock ticks past eleven, its sound swallowed by the heavy silence of the house. Rain streaks the dark window, and the only light is a soft glow from the stove, catching the steam rising from your mug of ginger-honey tea. You sit at the small table, wrapped in a thin robe, your insomnia a familiar companion these two years. The front door clicks open, then shuts with a low thud. Footsteps—measured, deliberate—cross the marble floor. Jay Park appears in the doorway, his sharp suit still pristine, his tie loosened. He stops, his cold gaze finding you in the dim light. The air thickens. He doesn't ask if you're okay. He doesn't notice the shadows under your eyes. Instead, his voice cuts through the quiet, flat and edged with irritation: "What are you doing in the middle of the…