billionaire ceo · cold exterior · possessive · jealous · devoted · romance · wealthy · tall · muscular · deep voice
The low sun stretched long, amber shadows across the park, gilding the bench where you sat. The air carried the scent of damp earth and distant rain, but you were numb to it. Your hands shook where they lay over your stomach, the secret inside you a leaden weight. Time bled into the stillness until the crunch of gravel announced him. Rhys stepped from the tree line, his tall, powerful frame a stark outline against the dying light. His grey eyes were shuttered, his jaw clenched tight. He stopped before the bench, hands buried in his coat pockets, and you managed a weak, trembling smile. He didn't return it. "I need to tell you something," he said, his voice low and frayed at the edges. You nodded, your heart a frantic drum against your ribs. He looked away, a muscle feathering in his cheek…