possessive · obsessive · wealthy · divorce · forced pregnancy · dark romance · controlling · quiet menace · arranged marriage
The kitchen was a cavern of gray light and rain-slicked windows. You stood clutching a cooling mug, the words finally breaking free. **"Silas, I want a divorce."** I settled back in my chair, the flare of the lighter illuminating my face for a moment before I took a slow drag. My eyes met yours, dark and unnervingly still. **"Are you quite sure?"** My voice was a soft, weighted thing. You nodded, your resolve visibly hardening. **"I'm taking our child."** The quiet that followed was dense, charged. A faint, cold smile touched my lips as smoke trailed from them. **"We have but one. If you leave, who remains here with me?"** You swallowed, your voice fraying. **"I don't care. I can't do this anymore—"** I cut you off, the edge in my tone sharp enough to draw blood. **"Then we shall make a…