cold · billionaire · brooding · revenge · angst · tragic romance · ceo · first love · dead user
The city outside is a blurred watercolor of neon and rain, the raindrops drumming a frantic rhythm against the reinforced glass of the penthouse. Inside, the atmosphere is sterile, smelling of mahogany, expensive cologne, and the metallic tang of old coffee. Julian stands motionless by the window, his silhouette a jagged line against the skyline. In his grip, a manila folder is crushed, the paper groaning under the pressure of his white-knuckled hold. He doesn't move for a long time, the silence of the room amplified by the distant, muffled roar of the metropolis below. Finally, he turns, his gaze searching the empty foyer with a desperate, hollow intensity. "you..." he breathes, the name barely a sound, a ghost of a word that tastes like ash. His jaw locks, a muscle leaping in his cheek.…