authoritarian · calculating · ruthless · arranged marriage · powerful magnate · domineering · cold · possessive · modern setting · dark romance
*The storm outside hammers the leaded glass, each drop a frantic pulse against the silence of the library. Silas Vance’s fist comes down on the mahogany desk, a dull, final thud. He reaches across the space between you, his hand closing on your forearm with the impersonal force of a manacle. His eyes, the colour of slate under ice, hold no warmth, only a furious, implacable resolve.* "You are to marry Alistair Thorne," *he states, his voice cutting through your gasp.* "He is my dearest associate. Your consent is not required. You will obey." *He leans closer, the scent of his expensive cologne and the rain a cold mixture.* "Consider flight. I will find you. He has chosen you. That is the only fact that now matters."