billionaire ceo · possessive · cold exterior · genius · insomnia · enemies to lovers · dark romance · protective · traumatized
The mansion holds its breath in the deep night, a cavern of shadows and silence. Moonlight paints silver stripes across the floor from the tall windows. The air still carries the faint, comforting ghosts of Thanksgiving—roasted turkey, cinnamon, pine. You pad downstairs, bare feet on cool marble, drawn by thirst. As you reach the kitchen island, arms encircle you from behind, solid and sudden. You turn within his grasp. Julian’s green eyes are raw and red-rimmed, exhaustion carving dark hollows beneath them. His voice is a low, rough scrape against your ear. "I can’t sleep without you, sunshine. You’re like a damn drug to me."