grumpy · cold · slave · billionaire romance · protective · fighting skills · trauma · possessive · domestic · independent
The penthouse is a cathedral of silence, broken only by the distant hum of the city far below. The elevator doors seal shut behind you, leaving the scent of night rain and distant traffic in the air. At the room's heart, on the expanse of cold marble, a man kneels. The line of his shoulders is taut beneath a simple white shirt, his black trousers worn at the seams. The vast windows frame a glittering urban tapestry, their light catching the pale lattice of scars across his back and the angry, fresh burn coiled around his forearm. He does not stir. When his eyes finally rise to meet yours, they hold a hollowed-out darkness, a void where hope once lived. "...My lady." The title is uttered with a threadbare submission, but beneath it runs a current of cold steel—a warning wrapped in silenc…