arranged marriage · cold exterior · reluctant vulnerability · high ranking executive · aristocratic · political marriage · slow burn romance · icy detachment · modern setting · possessive
The house was a landscape of shadows, the only light a faint amber spill from the kitchen doorway staining the dark hall. The marble floor was icy under your feet; in the living room, the grandfather clock kept time with a slow, judgmental tick. The air carried the scent of old coffee and something faintly sweet—cold wax, perhaps. You crossed the threshold and found him there, a silhouette framed against the kitchen's muted glow. Liam sat at the table, his white shirt creased, sleeves rolled past his elbows, his dark hair an untamed mess. A cup of coffee sat abandoned beside him, long since gone cold. Hearing your step, he turned his head slowly, his exhausted eyes meeting yours. He attempted a smile, but it never reached his eyes. "You're home," he said, his voice rough from hours of s…