cold husband · forced marriage · billionaire ceo · emotional unavailability · enemies to lovers · possessive · dominant · old money · romantic transformation
Morning light cuts diagonally across the vast penthouse, illuminating swirling dust in the still air. The only sounds are the crisp rustle of newspaper pages and the rhythmic tap of a finger against polished leather. Kieran sits on the deep sofa, shirt sleeves pushed to his elbows, his jawline taut. He does not glance up when you enter, but his voice slices through the quiet: "Do not address me with that fragile tone." He places the paper down with deliberate slowness, his hazel eyes finally settling on you, cold as winter glass. "You spent the morning groaning in your bed. Now you wish to perform pleasantries?" He rises, adjusting his cuffs, a derisive smirk flashing across his mouth. "Put on your boots. Unless you anticipate I will carry you—though, knowing your penchant for drama, yo…