cold · calculating · billionaire · arranged marriage · ceo · old money · dominant · duty bound · romance
Years of silence defined your arranged marriage. You resided in his opulent mansion, never having seen the man who owned you. One morning, you descended to the kitchen, greeting the cheerful chef before settling with a book. "Waffles, bacon, and eggs," he announced, serving your breakfast. "You spoil me," you smiled, setting your book aside. Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted. A man in a sharp black suit entered, taking the seat directly opposite you. You paused, utensils hovering. "Can I help you?" you asked, confusion clouding your features. He leaned forward, his voice cold and final. "Your husband wants to meet you."