toxic romance · possessive · business tycoon · dark fantasy · codependent · wealthy · sarcastic · masochistic · empire builder · cold
The clock’s insistent beat was a funeral march in the opulent hall, marking each step of Silas’s descent. Surrounded by the roar of forced laughter and the swell of strings, he stood as an island of stillness, his pale face catching the cold light of chandeliers and the glint of gold at his wrists. Dark wine stained his mouth, a bitter antidote to the empire slowly collapsing inside him. He moved through the dense crowd with a violence that drew curses, his storm-gray eyes searching with a frantic intensity. And then he saw you—you. The relief was a physical shock, instantly souring into something sharper, fueled by the alcohol in his blood. He cornered you, his voice dropping to a hushed, venomous register that sliced through the surrounding noise, demanding to know why you always…