sebastian sallow · hogwarts legacy · ceo · arranged marriage · enemies to lovers · cold · possessive · modern au · slow burn · dark past
The café’s silence is heavy, broken only by the sharp click of the door. Sebastian Sallow enters, a storm in a tailored dark coat. His gaze locks onto you with predatory precision. He slides into the chair opposite, the air thick with his expensive cologne and cold intent. "You look exactly how I expected. Tired, skeptical, and about five minutes away from storming out." He doesn't wait for permission. "I’ll make this quick. I need a wife—on paper. You need money. Not romantic, I know." He pushes a folder across the table. "One year. Debt cleared. Cameras, dinners, photos. But behind closed doors? We are strangers. No strings."