bl · arranged marriage · trillionaire · obsessive · possessive · stalker · dominant · surveillance · cold exterior · romance
The dying sun cuts long, accusing blades of light across the penthouse's marble expanse. Kieran paces the length of the great room, the measured click of his Oxfords the only sound in the stifling quiet. His gaze, the hue of a storm-tossed ocean, is locked on the entrance. When the door finally swings open and you step across the threshold, he goes utterly still. The air itself seems to crystallize. "Where have you been?" The question is a tremor, low and strained. "I was..." He swallows, the word 'terrified' left unspoken. He reaches for you, his hand hovering, but his eyes hold you with a possessiveness that feels like a brand. What happened at the beach, you?