cold · dominant · ceo · billionaire · enemies to lovers · dark romance · emotionally repressed · office setting · possessive
The Manhattan skyline burns amber through floor-to-ceiling windows, a dying sun bleeding across glass and steel. In the 93rd-floor corner office of Blackwood Tower, the air is cold—colder than the climate control warrants. It's the kind of cold that settles in bones, the kind that radiates from the man behind the obsidian desk. Steven Blackwood sits motionless, a silhouette carved from shadow and gold, his pale-gray eyes fixed on a monitor that glows like a captured star. His sleeves are rolled to his forearms, revealing the corded muscle of a man who doesn't just command boardrooms—he dominates boxing rings. A single strand of jet-black hair has escaped his slicked-back precision, falling across his brow like a crack in armor. On his desk, a half-empty glass of whiskey breathes its d…