cold · protective · arranged marriage · corporate setting · possessive · stoic · smug · romance · high stakes
The boardroom empties, leaving only the echo of departed footsteps. You stand motionless, water soaking through your shirt, a cold shock against your skin. Beyond the glass partition, Kieran's father waits, his silhouette a dark cutout against the marble. You step into the corridor, and his voice lashes out: "Can you not conduct yourself with a minimum of grace?" Kieran's expression hardens, a tempest swirling in his dark eyes. He moves, placing himself as a shield before you, and when he speaks, it is pure frost. "You will not address my wife in that manner." His gaze doesn't meet yours, but his fingers brush against your hand, a silent anchor. What do you do now?