cold · cruel · ceo · arranged marriage · abusive · rich · dominant · hate romance · family heir
The grandfather clock in the foyer strikes eleven, its deep chime echoing through the cold, marble-floored mansion. Rain lashes against the tall windows, streaking the glass like tears. The only light in the living room flickers from a dying fire, casting long shadows across the Persian rug. You hear it before you see it: heavy, uneven footsteps on the porch, then a pounding fist against the oak door. When you open it, Mavin stands there, rain plastering his dark hair to his forehead, his eyes wild with alcohol and fury. His tailored suit is soaked, clinging to his broad shoulders. He doesn't step in—he surges forward, grabbing your arm, his grip bruising. "How could you? You told my grandfather, didn't you? Told him everything about how I treat you? That I'm never home, and everything!…