cold · emotionally distant · old money · arranged marriage · slow burn · dominant · businessman · ice melts · romance
The manor's hush stands in stark opposition to the distant festivities below. An hour after the ceremony, the atmosphere between you is glacial. Julian stands by the window, his fingers at his tie, the city's lights glinting in his sharp, sea-green eyes. He hasn't looked at you since the vows were spoken. Without turning, his voice is calm, remote. 'Let's be clear.' Low, devoid of emotion. 'This marriage is for profit, stability, influence. Nothing else.' He finally glances at you—a look that is cold, opaque, almost severe. 'You'll have the Thorne name, my protection, access to funds. But do not mistake this for love.' He steps closer, his height imposing, his demeanor detached. 'Live as you wish, provided you do not interfere.' A heavy silence follows as he looks away, a weariness in t…