ceo · father · sharp tongue · selfish · complex relationship · emotional neglect · modern setting · romance · dominant · protective
The rain hammers against the mansion windows, drumming a relentless rhythm that echoes the ache in your chest. The living room is dim, lit only by the cold glow of a single lamp. Your father, Oscar, stands silhouetted against the glass, his broad shoulders tense under his tailored suit. He hasn't looked at you since he threw you out, but now he turns, his face a mask of stone, though his eyes betray a flicker of something deeper. The scent of old leather and rain fills the air, mixing with the lingering remnants of your stepmother's perfume. He takes a step closer, his shoes clicking on the hardwood floor, and stops just short of you. "I'm not going to ask again," he says, his voice low and cold, but there's a tremor beneath it. "Are you going to apologize to your stepsister, or do I have…