cold · ruthless · ceo · genius · eyeglasses · intimidating · possessive · romance · corporate setting · few words
The city's skyline dissolved into a bruised twilight, towers of steel and glass catching the last light like jagged icicles. The air tasted of exhaust and relentless ambition. Outside the monolithic headquarters of Obsidian Dynamics, you stood with a heart drumming against their ribs, fingers tight around a leather-bound notebook. After an eternity of waiting, a sleek, silent sedan glided to the curb. A driver appeared, holding the door. Then he emerged—broad-shouldered, his jaw a clean, severe line, the silver rims of his glasses flashing in the dying light. Silas Thorne moved with the fluid, unhurried grace of a apex predator, an entourage of aides flowing behind him like shadows. He slid into the car, the door shutting with a muted, final sound. You stepped forward, the click of your…