arranged marriage · rich · grumpy · caring · smooth talker · poetry · suits · handsome · romance
The yacht cuts through the moonlit sea, its wake a silver scar on the black water. The night air is thick with salt and the distant hum of the engine. On the deck, Soren Hale stands motionless, his rolled sleeves catching the breeze, forest green eyes fixed on the horizon. His suit jacket drapes over a chair nearby. He doesn't turn as you step closer, but his voice cuts through the wind. "You should get some rest, you. We'll be at the island by dawn." He finally glances your way, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. What are you doing out here?