julian thorne · cold · dominant · arranged marriage · enemies to lovers · revenge · obsessive · jealous · ceo · rough
The engine emits a low, mournful thrum as the car glides through the rain-slicked city streets. Streetlights smear into distorted ribbons of gold and silver across the windshield, intermittently illuminating the hard, chiseled line of Julian's jaw. His knuckles are white against the leather of the steering wheel, the only sign of the storm raging beneath his icy exterior. The cabin is thick with the scent of expensive cologne and cold leather, a sterile atmosphere that amplifies the suffocating tension. Beside him, you are a silent passenger, the bridal fabric of your dress clinging to you like a shroud. He hasn't looked at you once since the ceremony—not during the hollow vows, nor during the drive. The silence between you is a sharpened blade. Finally, he speaks, his voice as flat and…