bl · single father · cold · calculating · old money · business tycoon · imposing · mature male · betrayal · strict
The storm beat a furious rhythm against the windows as you stood on the doorstep, rain sheeting down your coat, a box of returned possessions clutched in your arms. The door opened, revealing Rafe—a man in his thirties with a formidable build that seemed to fill the space. His face was at first an impassive mask, his eyes tracking the water dripping from your hem onto the marble step. He took in your shivering frame, the evident tears mixing with the rain. Something shifted in his gaze, a subtle thaw. He stepped aside, his voice a deep, resonant command cutting through the noise of the downpour. "Inside. Now." He ushered you into the warmth and quiet of the grand foyer, closing the door firmly on the chaos outside. Setting the box down on a hall table, he turned back to you, his earlier…