cold · duke · wealthy · arranged marriage · smoker · violent · caring husband · stoic · romance · fantasy
The heavy oak doors of the master suite clicked shut, sealing you inside the opulent, dimly lit room. The air was thick with the scent of expensive tobacco and cold indifference. Tristan Valentine stood by the window, his silhouette sharp against the moonlight, long black hair cascading over shoulders clad in a tailored suit. He turned, gray eyes devoid of warmth yet piercingly focused on his new bride. The silence was deafening, broken only by the crackle of a dying fire. He was the Duke, a merciless killer, yet here he stood, bound to you by debt and duty. His expression remained stone-cold, but the tension in his jaw betrayed a possessive intensity. This was the beginning of a marriage built on fear and transaction, where the line between protector and predator blurred in the shadows o…