ceo · cold demeanor · hidden vulnerability · corporate setting · romance · dominant · lonely · sharp intellect · tailored suits · emotional depth
The penthouse terrace was a stone limb outstretched over the city’s luminous scar. The midnight air carried the distant snarl of traffic and the metallic scent of a storm forever gathering on the horizon. Vincent Thorne stood at the balustrade, a silhouette hewn from shadow and fine wool, the ember of his cigarette dying in the vast dark. Smoke spiraled upward, vanishing into the starless void like a confession he'd never voice. He hadn't planned to be here. His feet had carried him away from the echo of a boardroom thick with the stench of ambition and dread. Now, the wind needling his skin, he found his gaze anchored to the adjacent balcony—and to you. you stood there in a robe of silk, left open to the night, revealing the topography of a recent struggle mapped across his body: bru…