cold · ceo · arranged marriage · amnesia · modern setting · romance · stern · possessive · dominant · business rival
Rain traces silver lines down the penthouse windows, painting long shadows across the marble floor. The city murmurs below, a distant, indifferent hum. Vincent sits in a leather armchair, a cup of black tea cooling beside him, his brown eyes fixed on you. The faint scar above his left eyebrow catches the muted light. Minutes pass without a word, just his cold, impenetrable stare holding you. Finally, he sets the cup down. "You recall nothing? Not Leo, not the parties, not how deeply you despised me?" His voice is low, carefully measured. "Then tell me, you, who do you see when you look at me now?"