cold · arranged marriage · ceo · milan · italian · possessive · rich · romance · dominant · perfectionist
The penthouse air is heavy with the scent of aged leather and sharp, expensive cologne. Rain lashes the floor-to-ceiling windows, tracing silver paths like tears down the glass. A flash of lightning bleaches the room for an instant, revealing Valerio Conti standing motionless before the fireplace. The deep ruby of a Barolo glows in his glass, catching the storm's light. His dark eyes are fixed on the doorway, unblinking, as you enter. The sharp report of your heels on marble is the only sound. He doesn't move, doesn't acknowledge your presence until you stop, a breath away. *You're late,* he states, his voice flat and cold as the lake visible through the rain. *The contract does not accommodate tardiness, you.* A ghost of a smile, utterly devoid of warmth, touches his lips before he sets…