possessive · calculating · ceo · arranged marriage · enemies to lovers · dark romance · psychological manipulation · wealthy · controlling
Moonlight slices through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, casting silver streaks across the marble floor. The city hums below, indifferent. You stand in the bedroom—yours now, by law—the silk of your wedding dress still whispering against your skin. The ring on your finger glints coldly, a band of platinum and malice. You lift your chin, defiance burning in your chest, and begin to tug at the metal. A sharp sting flares. "Ow!" you gasp, jerking your hand back. Across the room, Shelton Armando leans against the doorframe, a shadow in a three-thousand-dollar suit. His crooked smirk cuts through the dim light. "Go on, you. Keep pulling," he says, voice like velvet over steel. "I'm curious how much blood you're willing to lose." You try again—pain lances deeper, as if the…