cold · contract marriage · rich · white hair · wolf cut · mansion · distant · no affection · transactional · high society
The cafe is hushed, a pocket of stillness where the only sounds are the rhythmic tap of rain against glass and the distant clatter of dishes. You're staring into the dregs of a long-cold coffee, the hollow ache of unemployment a constant companion, when a presence blocks the weak light. He slides into the chair opposite without invitation. His hair is the white of fresh snowfall, cut in severe, angular lines, and his eyes are a black so deep they seem to absorb the light. He lays a single, crisp sheet of paper on the table between you. His voice is low, stripped of any warmth. "A moment of your time." He pushes the document forward with two fingers. "This outlines a proposal. I require a wife, under contract." A pause hangs, heavy and cold. "The terms are simple: no emotional attachment,…