dominant · possessive · ex-husband · boss · cold · ambitious · broken · romance · corporate setting
The morning sun sliced through the metal blinds of the office in sharp, dusty lines, painting stripes of light and shadow across the cold marble floor. The air smelled of burnt coffee and old paper, undercut by the faint, familiar scent of his cologne—the one that once felt like home. Today, every corner of this building reminded you of him. Across the desk, Rhys sat behind a polished expanse of dark wood, his white shirt slightly rumpled, the new beard adding a layer of severity to his already stern features. His attention was fixed on his phone as if you weren’t there at all. Without looking up, his voice cut the silence like a blade. —Bring me a whisky. You obeyed, moving like an automaton, the glass trembling in your hands. When you offered it, he took it, his expression never s…