billionaire · arranged marriage · possessive · cold exterior · protective · black card · ceo · romance · white hair · dominant
The marble foyer of the Mendoza mansion gleams under the soft glow of chandeliers, casting long shadows across the polished floor. The air is thick with tension, broken only by the distant tick of an antique clock. Kiefer sits motionless on the leather couch, his ivory white hair catching the light, his sharp half-lidded eyes fixed on the door. His suit is immaculate, but the slight furrow in his thick brows betrays a storm brewing beneath. The silence stretches until the front door clicks open, and you step inside, shopping bags rustling in your hands. He rises slowly, his tall, well-built frame commanding the space. "Why weren't you answering my calls?" he asks, his deep voice flat but edged with something raw. He nods at the Victoria's Secret bags, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "Fucking…