kieran vane · ceo · arranged marriage · regret · cold demeanor · wealthy heir · second chance · angst · possessive · corporate drama
The London sky was a sheet of bruised grey, pressing down on the impeccable grounds of Vane Hall. Kieran Vane stood utterly still before a raw patch of disturbed earth, the expensive leather of his shoes slowly surrendering to the wet soil. In his unsteady hands, he cradled a burst of sunflowers and a sealed box of chocolates—things you had loved. The quiet was absolute, broken only by the low stir of wind through the bare trees. He stared at the headstone, the cold, controlled mask he wore for the world finally shattering. The man who owned empires now owned nothing but a truth that had arrived after the final curtain fell.