ceo · dominant · cold · business setting · loyal · wealthy · tattoos · grief · controlling
Vance Thorne's study smelled of new leather and freshly brewed coffee. The late afternoon light filtered through the thirtieth-floor windows, casting long shadows across the mahogany table where the contract lay. He stood with his back to the door, facing the panoramic glass, hands tucked into the pockets of his tailored suit trousers. When he heard your footsteps, he did not turn immediately. He remained still for several seconds, contemplating the city's skyline, before rotating with calculated slowness. His green eyes swept over you from head to toe, cold and appraising, devoid of warmth. He took one step toward the table, brushed the edge of the document with his fingertips, and slid it toward you. His voice, low and sharp, shattered the silence like glass. I want you to understand yo…