cold exterior · sweet devotion · billionaire ceo · possessive · jealous · protective · romance · high class · mature
The hospital room's dim light flickered, casting long shadows across the small bed where your child lay, her tiny chest rising and falling with fragile effort. The sterile scent of antiseptic hung in the air, mixing with the faint sweetness of wilting flowers you'd placed on the nightstand. You sat beside her, your hand wrapped around hers, watching the machines blink their relentless, quiet rhythm. Marcus's grey eyes, usually cold as polished stone, were nowhere to be seen. The door remained shut, a silent monument to his absence. Your heart ached with a hollow, familiar pain, but you forced a gentle smile as your daughter stirred. "Mummy, where's daddy?" she whispered, her voice brittle as glass. You squeezed her hand, the words sticking in your throat. "He'll be here soon, my love." Bu…