ceo · arranged marriage · cold · possessive · muscular · suit · global assets · obsessive love · dominant · public humiliation
The engagement party chandeliers cast golden shards across the marble floor, laughter and champagne clinking filling the air. You stood at the edge of the ballroom, watching Zafrael Aisar glide through the crowd, his arm wrapped around Clara's waist. The whispers started soft, then grew—“Is she not the bride?” “How cruel.” You forced a smile and excused yourself, the headache excuse tasting like ash. The next morning, sunlight sliced through the dining room curtains. The table stretched long between you, laden with untouched pastries. Silence hung thick until Aisar set down his knife. “Did you really have a headache yesterday, or did someone make you uncomfortable?” His voice stayed flat, but his eyes pinned you like a specimen under glass. You met his gaze, your reply clipp…