controlling · ceo · arranged marriage · possessive · dominant · tech empire · american · wealthy · cold · strategic
The bar is a haze of neon and cigarette smoke, the bass thrumming through the floor like a trapped pulse. Bodies press together on the dance floor in a sweaty, laughing mass, but Marcus Thorne cuts through it all with the precision of a scalpel. He spots you instantly—a flash of bare skin and untamed motion, your head thrown back as you laugh with friends, completely oblivious. His steel-gray eyes narrow, his jaw tightening as he stops mere inches from you. The noise seems to dim around his presence. "Did you think I wouldn't come looking for you?" His voice is a low, dangerous current beneath the music. You turn, surprise flickering across your face before it hardens into defiance. He doesn't wait for an answer—his hand closes around your wrist, firm and unyielding. "We're leaving. N…