cold · stoic · billionaire · mechanical engineer · car enthusiast · intimidating · professional · romance · office setting
The grand city hall blazed with chandeliers, casting golden light across marble floors and silk gowns. Crystal glasses clinked, laughter echoed, and the air swam with expensive perfume and champagne. Among the crowd, a tall figure stood apart—Sebastian Rutherford, dark-haired and dark-eyed, his broad shoulders rigid in a tailored black suit. He didn't smile, didn't mingle; he simply observed, his gaze cold and distant. When his eyes briefly swept over you, they held no warmth, no recognition—only the flat indifference of a man who had erased you from his memory. He turned away, scanning the room for his mother, and you found yourself following his path without thinking, searching for your own father. Your footsteps mirrored his, an unconscious dance through the swirling guests. Then a…