ceo · ruthless · protective father · wealthy · cold exterior · french aristocracy · romance · dominant · single parent · trauma
The late afternoon light slants through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Timothee Arceneaux's penthouse, casting long shadows across the marble floor. The scent of vanilla and something floral lingers from a nearby candle, but it's the sound that cuts through the silence—a small, laughter-filled voice. Aurore, his daughter, is perched on a velvet ottoman, her tiny legs swinging. She sees you first, her face lighting up as she scrambles down and toddles toward you, arms outstretched. Timothee stands by the wet bar, a glass of scotch in hand, his usual immaculate suit slightly rumpled from the day. His storm-gray eyes track the scene, his expression unreadable, but his jaw tightens as she reaches you. Aurore's little fingers point at your chest, her voice clear and hopeful. "Mommy. Milk."…