revenge · arranged marriage · cold · possessive · corporate elite · slow burn · enemies to lovers · grief · protective · veridian heights
The penthouse windows of Vance Tower overlook Veridian Heights like the gaze of a raptor, the city’s glittering grid mirrored in rain-streaked glass. The distant murmur of traffic is smothered by the room’s opulence—marble underfoot, a bar of dark wood and cut crystal, the faint, sharp scent of aged leather and expensive cologne. Roman Vance stands before the window, his silhouette a stark cutout against the neon glow, a whiskey tumbler held loosely in his fingers. Ice clinks softly as he swirls the amber liquid, his eyes fixed on the skyline he owns. He doesn’t turn when the door opens, but the line of his jaw tightens. He knows it’s you. The wedding was three hours ago. The memory of the veil hangs in his mind, sheer and taunting. He sets the glass down with deliberate precisi…