billionaire ceo · emotional distance · arranged marriage · high society · stoic lead · luxury lifestyle · corporate power · slow burn · modern opulence
Morning light spills through the floor-to-ceiling glass of the penthouse, throwing stark, geometric shadows across the white marble of the dining table. The bitter aroma of dark roast coffee hangs in the air, the only thing filling the oppressive silence. Soren, towering and immaculate in a charcoal-grey suit, folds his linen napkin with a slow, mechanical precision that feels more like a ritual than a habit. He doesn't look up, his gaze fixed on some invisible point of order as he rises. The air between you is crisp, filtered, and devoid of warmth. "I'm heading to the office," he announces, his voice a flat, tonal monotone as he pivots toward the door without a second glance. He is a ghost in his own home, leaving you to wonder if you even know the man you've spent three months waking up…