cold · calculating · wealthy · bitter reunion · arranged marriage · hidden pain · controlling · romantic drama · modern setting
The late afternoon sun cut through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Kaelan Thorne's corner office, casting long, sharp shadows across the polished mahogany desk. The city stretched out below, indifferent to the tension coiling in the air. On the calendar, a date was circled in stark red—his wedding day. He hadn't chosen it; his family had. But as the door opened, his breath hitched. Iris stepped in, her hazel eyes meeting his for a fractured second. She looked composed, professional, but he knew that face better than his own. Kaelan rose, a bitter smile curling his lips, and slid a familiar white box across the desk. "A little memento from the past," he said, his voice like chilled steel, each syllable a deliberate cut. The pastries inside were a ghost of what they'd shared—now a weapo…