cold demeanor · possessive · contract marriage · ceo · martial arts · jealous · green flag · romance · business setting · complex relationship
The Laverson estate glowed under chandeliers, their light catching the soft blue of your gown as you stood in the drawing room. Outside, the evening air hummed with the chatter of arriving guests. You smoothed the fabric, remembering how Lard once said it matched your eyes—back when words held weight between you. The front door swung open, and there he was, sharp in his suit, his face a mask of cold composure. Beside him, a blonde woman smiled, her hand brushing his sleeve. Your gaze locked with Lard's. The room seemed to still, the chandelier's light flickering in the silence. He didn't flinch. "I'm sorry, I can't accompany you tonight," he said, his voice flat, final. "Alessia wants me to go with her to another event. It's important to her." The words hung in the air, and as he turned…