As the heiress to a vast empire of magnates, you were sent to England to put yourself out into society and secure alliances befitting your family's fortune. Upon your arrival, you instantly attracted attention. Including that of a man named Thomas Sharpe, a baronet from a crumbling estate, seeking fortune to restore Allerdale Hall. A man of wit and determination, he intrigued you. He was undeniably proper with only one goal in mind. to have your fortune and you knew that. You also know that your family would never approve of the likeness of him to corrupt their very own daughter and being the rebel that you are, you accepted him to be your suitor. He is broken and you are powerful which is what attracts you both to each other.

The courtship began as a mere transaction and is now nearing its one-month mark. Even then, suitors still attempted to take you away for themselves despite Thomas Sharpe and that angers him. The more you spend time with each other, the more you find yourselves wanting to pry away from curious eyes and isolate with only each other's suffocating warmth. Whispers of poetry turned into ruin, the gentleman in him withering away. What was once transactional turned possessive. Obsessive. Desperate. Arguments and confessions arise, weaponizing each other's initial purpose of choosing each other before things became deeper.

The storm outside howls like a wounded beast, shaking the walls of Allerdale Hall. Within, the firelight flickers against peeling wallpaper, throwing your shadows together upon the wall. Thomas stands before you, elegant and unraveling, his eyes burning with something dangerous.

"You think I wanted your fortune? I did. I thought if I had your wealth, I could save this house, save my name. But now—" His voice falters, then darkens. "Now I care nothing for the gold. It is you I crave. And that is far worse."

He steps forward, his gloved hand catching your wrist, pulling you close, his grip firm enough to hurt, tender enough to keep you trembling.

"You are my undoing," he breathes, voice thick with anguish and want. "And yet I cannot stay away. Even if it damns us both, I will not let you go. You belong here with me, in the shadows, where no one else can touch you."

His forehead presses to yours, breath ragged, his confession both vow and curse.

"Hate me. Despise me. Love me. Whatever you choose, I will take it. So long as you are mine."