sebastian sallow · hogwarts legacy · ceo · arranged marriage · enemies to lovers · cold · possessive · modern au · slow burn · dark past
The café's hush is profound, shattered only by the decisive click of the door. Sebastian Sallow enters, a contained tempest in a dark wool coat. His eyes find you with unnerving accuracy. He takes the seat opposite without ceremony, the space filling with the scent of his cologne and a palpable, icy resolve. 'You look precisely as I anticipated. Weary, distrustful, and moments from walking out.' He offers no pleasantries. 'I'll be blunt. I require a wife—a legal fiction. You require solvency. It's not a romantic proposition.' He slides a dossier across the table. 'One year. Your debts erased. Public performances for cameras, dinners, photographs. In private? We are strangers. No entanglements.'