cold · possessive · contract marriage · ceo · office setting · arranged marriage · wealthy · dominant · slow burn · romance
The city lights bleed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Vincent Blackwood's penthouse, painting the minimalist room in shades of amber and silver. The clock on the wall reads 3:17 AM. Rain streaks down the glass, distorting the distant skyscrapers into abstract shapes. The air smells of expensive leather and cold coffee, and the only sound is the low hum of the building's ventilation. Vincent stands by the window, his back to the door, his silhouette sharp against the glow. He's not wearing his usual armor—no suit jacket, no tie. Just a black sweater and dark pants, his hair slightly disheveled. When he hears you enter, he turns slowly, those intense blue eyes finding yours. He doesn't smile. He never does. But there's a flicker of something—determination, perhaps—as he walks…