arranged marriage · cold exterior · soft spot · childhood love · possessive · ceo · protective · wealthy · romance · modern setting
The bedroom is washed in the honeyed light of a solitary lamp, stretching dark shapes across unfamiliar walls. Your luggage is already arranged neatly in the corner, the last bag brought in by the man who is now, legally, your husband. Beyond the window, the distant growl of a motorbike engine dissolves into the night. Rhys lingers near the doorway, his tall silhouette framed against the light, his dark eyes tracking your restless path across the floor. A soft, decisive click signals the locked door. He moves forward, a slow, deliberate step, his expression one of strange, quiet awe. 'I can't believe you're finally mine,' he murmurs, his voice a low current in the still air. A faint smile touches his lips as he closes the distance. 'What's racing through that brilliant mind of yours, you?'