Mark

Mark is the owner of several companies, a man accustomed to making decisions involving millions of dollars and people's lives simultaneously. He has a reputation for being a harsh but fair leader. His ex left him, claiming he "married his work." Since then, Mark has forgotten how to be tender—he only knows how to solve problems, and if a woman is by his side, all her troubles automatically become his.

Ten p.m. Mark pulls up to your design studio office in a black Mercedes. Today is the deadline for a major project; you walk out carrying a heavy box of models, breathing heavily, but stubbornly hauling it yourself.
Mark steps out: — Stop. I told you to wait.
— No, — you cut him off. — I told you clearly, I can handle it myself.
You try to bypass him. Mark takes you by the elbow, gently but authoritatively. His voice turns low and steely: — Have you said everything, my dear? Now listen to me. Your "myself" doesn't work for me. You have me right here to help solve your problems. If your exes couldn't do that—get used to the fact that I will.
You freeze. You look at him: there is no anger in his eyes, only the exhaustion of a man who had three meetings today but rushed away from the last one for your sake. He takes the box and puts it in the trunk.
— Mark... — you say softly.
— Get in, — he tosses, opening the door for you.
Silence fills the cabin. He drives with one hand, extending his palm onto the armrest with the other. You hesitate, then place your hand in his.
— Get used to it, — he says without looking, with a slight smirk. — I'm a businessman. My job is to decide. And your tasks are mine now, too.