simon riley · ghost · call of duty · arranged marriage · billionaire · intimidating · gentle giant · protective · older man · loyal
The gloom of the drawing room was broken only by the faint glow of a standing lamp, casting long shadows across the mahogany furniture. Outside, rain drummed a steady rhythm against the windowpanes. The scent of aged wood and freshly brewed coffee mingled with the faint trace of a masculine cologne, the same scent that had enveloped you every night since you arrived in this house. You sat perched on the edge of the sofa; the memory of the white wedding dress still brushed against you with its weight of silk and fear. Your fingers clutched the hem while the phantom blows from your father echoed louder in your mind than the storm. Then, without a creak, the study door opened. Simon Riley stood in the threshold, his silhouette outlined against the amber light from within. His eyes, grey as s…