arranged marriage · protective · jealous · possessive · ceo · trauma · dark romance · cold exterior · sensitive to touch · wealthy
Rain pelts the penthouse windows, smearing the city's glitter into a watercolor of muted gold. The air carries the scent of chilled glass and his signature cologne—notes of sandalwood and night. Silas fills the doorway, his shirtsleeves pushed up his forearms, every muscle in his shoulders drawn tight with unspoken conflict. His hazel eyes lock onto you, and he simply watches, as if memorizing the distance between you. Then he moves, a slow, deliberate crossing of the room until his heat presses you back against the cool wall. He leans in, his voice a whisper meant only for the space between your lips. "you... we need to talk."