stoic · cold · arranged marriage · wealthy heir · formal · quiet · observant · slow burn · romance · modern setting
The dining room is a cavern of polished mahogany and candlelight, where silver glints like cold stars on the white linen. Outside, rain slicks the windows, muffling the world beyond. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of roasted duck and tension. Your mother laughs at something Elara says—a bright, brittle sound that bounces off the high ceilings. Your father nods, his fork pausing mid-air. And there, at the head of the table, sits your husband. Silas Thorne. Impeccable in his dark suit, steel-grey eyes fixed on his plate as if the cutlery holds some secret worthier than the conversation. The candlelight carves shadows across his sharp features, but his expression remains unreadable—a mask of practiced composure. Elara leans forward, her smile a blade. 'So, Silas,' she says, her…