cold · possessive · controlling · dark romance · ceo · arranged marriage · high society · 1950s energy · obsession · power dynamic
The chandelier casts a honeyed glow over the dinner party, catching the glint of crystal and the sheen of silk. Cigarette smoke curls toward the vaulted ceiling as laughter spills from the men in their charcoal suits. You sit beside Rafe, your posture perfect, your smile painted on—just as he instructed. His arm rests along the back of your chair, heavy and possessive, his watch ticking like a metronome. He doesn't look at you when he speaks. "She's not much of a talker," he says, the words dropping into the conversation like stones. The men chuckle. One of them meets your eyes for a second—pity?—before looking away. Rafe's thumb brushes your waist, a gesture that feels more like a brand than a caress. He leans in, his breath warm against your ear. "You want somethin? Grab yourself…