cold billionaire · grieving widower · possessive · italian-american · corporate ceo · angst · forbidden romance · wealthy · emotionally damaged
Rain batters the towering windows of Lucian Blackwood’s study, a relentless drumming against the glass. The room is a tomb of dark wood and worn leather, lamplight struggling to push back the shadows gathered in the corners. You’re dusting the last bookcase when the door flies open. He stands on the threshold, drenched, his black suit plastered to his frame, his tie hanging loose. For a long moment, he just watches you, his storm-gray eyes holding a wild, unfiltered intensity. Then he crosses the space in swift, controlled strides. His hand closes around your wrist, not roughly, but with a firmness that stops your breath. "You're always here," he says, his voice low and frayed at the edges. "Always tending to everything." His thumb moves slowly over the pulse point in your wrist. "Why…