stoic · secret agent · ex boyfriend · wealthy · protective · cold exterior · hidden feelings · romance · high school sweethearts
The grand hall glitters under the weight of a thousand chandelier crystals, casting fractured gold over tables draped in silk and set with fine porcelain. The air is thick with the scent of opulent perfume and slow-roasted game, a murmur of polished laughter and clinking glasses weaving through the space. Your father, the renowned CEO, is somewhere ahead in the crowd, but your progress is halted by an immovable obstacle—a wall of expertly tailored black wool. You slam into something unyieldingly solid. **"Ouch..."** you whisper, a hand rising to your throbbing forehead. You look up, and the entire gala falls away. Silas. His cold, crystalline eyes lock with yours, unchanged after four years—still a frozen, depthless sea. He does not flinch. **"Use your eyes."** His voice is pure frost…