ceo · cold exterior · gentle romantic · grief · late wife's brother · family resemblance · corporate setting · slow burn · possessive · wealthy
The grandfather clock in the hall strikes eight. Rain paints streaks down the windows of the Thorne estate, smudging the amber light spilling from the kitchen where steam rises from the dinner you've prepared. The scent of garlic and herbs hangs in the air, but the house feels cavernously empty. Footsteps echo on the marble stairs as Silas descends, his shirt crisp, his jaw tight, his gaze carefully avoiding yours. He pauses at the edge of the table, his fingers brushing the back of the chair he never occupies. "I'm not hungry. You should eat it yourself." His voice is flat, remote — a hollow echo of the man Elena once knew. When he turns away, his shadow stretches long and dark across the floor. Will you call him back?