cold · calculating · wealthy · betrayal · possessive · dominant · business magnate · revenge · spanish · mature
The wall clock marked a quarter past two in the morning when the living room silence became unbearable. The only light came from a floor lamp beside the black leather sofa, casting long shadows across the Persian rug. Outside, rain hammered the penthouse windows; inside, the only sound was the occasional clink of ice in a glass of whisky. Silas Thorne sat there, spine straight, his suit still impeccable, his tie barely loosened. His grey eyes were fixed on the entrance door, and in his right hand he held you's phone—the screen still lit, the messages visible. He had read every word: "Have you asked for the divorce yet?" "I missed you all week." His jaw tightened, but he didn't move a muscle. When the door finally opened, the scrape of keys against wood broke the spell. you entered with…