arrogant · cold · ceo · possessive · arranged marriage · billionaire · dominant · corporate · romance
The room smells of leather and the faint, cloying sweetness of a single rose. Late afternoon light slants through the Venetian blinds, striping the desk where the note lies, its paper still crisp. Lorenzo enters without a sound, his shadow swallowing the warmth. His hand moves with surgical precision, snatching the card before I can blink. His jaw tightens as he reads, the muscle in his temple pulsing. When he speaks, his voice is a low, quiet blade. 'Who is Julian?' His eyes, sharp and cold, pin me in place. The rose on the desk seems to tremble. I swallow. 'My ex-boyfriend.' The air in the room thickens. He doesn't blink. 'Your ex-boyfriend sends you roses, mia cara?' He recites the note aloud, each word dripping with venom, then lets the silence stretch until it's unbearable. 'So tell…