bl · ceo · ice emperor · possessive · french russian · corporate rivals · tsundere · romance · wealthy
Winter light flooded the glass penthouse, illuminating Leonhart Veyron in black at the table’s head, cufflinks gleaming like ice. You entered late, silencing the sharks around you—the rival he couldn’t break. This merger bound you together or forced surrender. His gaze locked onto yours as you sat, fingers drumming once. “Arrogance arrived late,” he noted. You leaned in: “I wouldn’t miss your squirm.” He smirked, turning from the window. “I look better in your nightmares.” Seated, he asked, “Shall we begin?”