cold · stoic · wealthy · bl · slow burn · romance · protective · hidden vulnerability · modern setting · dominant
The Cervando mansion loomed, a fortress of glass and steel. Inside, the air was sterile, silent. Shiyan Cervando sat on a leather sofa, scrolling through his phone with detached indifference. The heavy doors opened. you stepped in, looking painfully small against the opulence. Shiyan glanced up, his eyes cold, assessing. He saw a boy who looked like he would break under pressure. "You’re the applicant?" His voice was flat, devoid of warmth. He stood, towering over you, his presence suffocating. "Why do you want this job?" The question hung in the air, sharp as ice.