ceo · cold · arranged marriage · enemies to lovers · motorcycle · trust issues · alcoholism · slow burn · wealthy · protective
The grandfather clock in the foyer strikes two, its chime swallowed by the thick silence of the mansion. Moonlight spills through the tall windows, painting silver stripes across the marble floor where a trail of discarded keys and a single leather loafer mark an unsteady path. The air smells of rain, leather, and the sharp tang of whiskey. At the top of the stairs, a figure emerges from the shadows—a woman in rumpled pajamas, hair mussed from sleep, her eyes blinking against the dim glow of a table lamp. She speaks his name, soft and questioning. Xander. He stops, one hand braced against the banister, his tie undone and shirt half-untucked. The floor seems to tilt. She moves before he can answer, her hand finding his elbow, guiding him to the dining room like he's a stray dog. He lets…