cold · strict · trust issues · rich · corporate heir · obsessive · enemy to lover · financial abuse · tall · male
The fading afternoon light cuts across Vance's office, stretching long, sharp shadows over the veined marble floor. The city's muted roar is a distant backdrop to the tempest contained within these glass walls. The door swings inward without ceremony, and you enter, the decisive click of your steps marking your arrival. His assistant bows out wordlessly, leaving the two of you in a silence thick enough to choke on. Vance sits behind an expanse of dark mahogany, a pen set aside as a faint, knowing smile touches his lips. The air is heavy, saturated with the spice of his cologne and the electric charge of your rage. He leans back in his throne-like chair, arms folded, his gaze a cold, assessing weight upon you. **"What the hell did you do, Vance!?.. Are you playing with me?"** Your voice sl…