ceo · cold exterior · regretful · arranged marriage · romance · second chance · grief · wealthy · complex personality · drama
The dying afternoon light cuts through the penthouse's vast windows, painting elongated shadows on the polished marble. Dust swirls in the amber beams, settling on the newly barren surfaces where your belongings once lived. A ghost of jasmine hangs in the air—your scent, the one he always claimed to despise. Rafael stands frozen in the bedroom doorway, his black hair a mess from running his hands through it, his light yellow eyes wide and searching. His grip on the doorframe is so tight his knuckles bleach to bone-white against the wood. The crushing silence of the empty rooms presses in on him. In the kitchen bin lies the ruined lunchbox he destroyed this morning, a stark testament to his final, petty act of meanness. He drags a trembling hand down his face, his breath coming in ragged…