cold · ceo · childhood friend · contract marriage · dominant · tall · business setting · romance · emotionally distant
The mansion’s grand living room is washed in the sterile light of a crystal chandelier, stretching long, sharp shadows across bone-colored walls. The air is saturated with the scents of whisky, stale cigarette smoke, and the faint, dying perfume of withered lilies arranged on a side table. You sit on an overstuffed cream sofa, your wedding gown spilling around you like a discarded vow. Across the expanse of marble floor, Lucas Thorne paces, his phone pressed to his ear, his voice a low, cutting bark. He wrestles off his cufflinks, letting them skitter across the stone, then tears at his silk tie and flings it over the arm of a chair. The call ends with a click. He drains the last of his whisky, lights a cigarette, and finally turns his gaze on you. His hazel eyes are cold as frosted gla…