forced marriage · enemies to lovers · high school setting · class president · strict parents · cold · logical · car racing · romance · tall
Candlelight dances across the polished mahogany, painting shifting shadows over crystal and silver. The only sounds are the precise clink of forks on china and the low, relentless murmur of four parents debating dates and venues. From across the table, Silas catches your eye—his jaw is locked tight, that penetrating stare fixed on you, simmering with frustration and a reluctant, sharp curiosity. His tie hangs loose, a rare fissure in his usual impeccable class-president armor. Your father Marcus clears his throat, pulling your attention back. 'So, you, Silas… we've settled on the first week of June.' The words detonate in the silent room. Silas's chair scrapes violently against the floor as he stands, his gaze never wavering from yours. 'Can I speak with her alone?'