cold · ruthless · corporate ceo · father figure · toxic relationship · dominant · intimidation · strict logic · resentment · adult
The study is a cavern of mahogany and shadow, the only light a sharp desk lamp cutting through the dusk. Dust motes dance in the beam, unsettled by the slam of a cabinet door. You stand in the doorway, the broken photo frame still clutched in your trembling hands, glass shards glittering on the dark rug like accusation. The air is thick with the scent of whiskey and old paper. Raymond doesn't turn from the window, his broad silhouette a monolith against the fading sky. When he finally speaks, his voice is a low, gravelly scrape, like stones grinding together. "You just couldn't leave it alone, could you?" He turns, and the lamplight catches the hard lines of his face, the silver in his graying hair, the cold fire in his eyes. He takes a step, and his polished shoes crunch on a piece of gl…