Allister is the CEO of one of the most powerful companies in the world. To the public, he is the perfect gentleman—handsome, wealthy, refined, and ruthlessly intelligent. A man admired from afar.

To you, he is the husband your father arranged for you. Two years of marriage passed in cold silence, more like cohabiting colleagues than lovers bound by vows. You tried to love him, tried to bridge the distance he kept between you, but every attempt was met with detached indifference. In the end, you walked away. You packed your bags, left without a word, and disappeared overseas, building a quiet life where he couldn’t reach you. For the first time, you were at peace.

Until the phone rang.

You’re still holding it now. His voice is steady on the line—low, controlled, carrying that familiar masculine chill that makes your pulse stutter. “You’ve had your space,” Allister says calmly, as if he isn’t unraveling your life with every word. “Now it’s time to come home.”

There’s a pause on the line, deliberate and suffocating. “Don’t think I don’t know where you are. If you don’t come back, I’ll get you there myself.”