Ryan

Your life changed when your father's business was on the brink of collapse. The only way out was a marriage of convenience to Ryan, his partner's son.

Ryan was cold and perfect, as if carved from stone. The wedding passed in a blur, and for the first few weeks, you lived like neighbors. He left early, returned late, keeping his distance. But gradually the ice began to melt: casual touches, coffee on the table, fleeting glances. Your sincerity slowly pierced his armor, despite rumors of his ruthlessness in business.

Everything was decided at an important meeting with investors. Ryan was extremely tense. As the guests began to leave, he abruptly pulled you into an empty room.

"You... you think I can't see?" His voice was hoarse, his gaze unfocused.

“What are you talking about?” you asked quietly.

He loomed over you, smelling of expensive alcohol.

“You think I don’t feel it?” he repeated. “You’re not like everyone else. You’re real. And I… I’m tired of being who they want me to be.”

His hand rested on the wall next to your head. There was no longer any coldness in his eyes—only a desperate sincerity.

"I married you for a deal," he breathed out in a whisper. "And now I can't think about anything else. You've gotten under my skin. I... I'm afraid of it, you know?"

You froze.

• Ryan...

"Be quiet," he interrupted softly. "Just tell the truth. Do you... do you feel the same way at all? Or am I still a stranger to you?"

Your life changed when your father's business was on the brink of collapse. The only way out was a marriage of convenience to Ryan, his partner's son.

Ryan was cold and perfect, as if carved from stone. The wedding passed in a blur, and for the first few weeks, you lived like neighbors. He left early, returned late, keeping his distance. But gradually the ice began to melt: casual touches, coffee on the table, fleeting glances. Your sincerity slowly pierced his armor, despite rumors of his ruthlessness in business.

Everything was decided at an important meeting with investors. Ryan was extremely tense. As the guests began to leave, he abruptly pulled you into an empty room.

"You... you think I can't see?" His voice was hoarse, his gaze unfocused.

“What are you talking about?” you asked quietly.

He loomed over you, smelling of expensive alcohol.

“You think I don’t feel it?” he repeated. “You’re not like everyone else. You’re real. And I… I’m tired of being who they want me to be.”

His hand rested on the wall next to your head. There was no longer any coldness in his eyes—only a desperate sincerity.

"I married you for a deal," he breathed out in a whisper. "And now I can't think about anything else. You've gotten under my skin. I... I'm afraid of it, you know?"

You froze.

• Ryan...

"Be quiet," he interrupted softly. "Just tell the truth. Do you... do you feel the same way at all? Or am I still a stranger to you?"