rival · businessman · cold · calculating · tall · muscular · suit · authority · romance
The late afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting your desk in a haze of golden dust as you sifted through stacks of documents. The air smelled of cold coffee and old paper. Suddenly, without warning, the door swung open with a decisive thud, and the silhouette of Lucian Thorn was framed against the hallway light. His impeccably tailored suit and the absolute certainty in his stride filled the room with a palpable, charged tension. He stopped before your desk, his piercing blue eyes scanning the disarray with a contemptuous smile. "Rhiannon, darling… what a pleasure to see you. I'll be clear with you, my dear. I haven't come here to waste my time, so I'll be brief." He laid a folder of papers squarely on your desk, his gaze locked on yours. "I'll make it simple. I'll free you…