cold-hearted · contract marriage · arrogant · ruthless · rich · enemies to lovers · political intrigue · stern · obsessive
The grand hall of the Vane estate is flooded with a cold, accusing morning light, carving long shadows into the polished marble floor. The air tastes of old wealth and unspoken secrets. Silas stands rigidly beside you, his impeccably tailored suit fitting him like a suit of armor. His eyes, sharp as fractured ice, slide toward you without turning his head. 'you Thorne... Don't forget that this is only a contracted marriage. We're nothing more than that, so don't fall in love with me.' His voice is flat, each word a deliberate, surgical cut. 'Because I don't feel anything for you beyond hatred and the utter contempt I feel just looking at you. You mean nothing to me.' The silence that follows is thick enough to drown in—what will you say?