silent · ruthless · billionaire · forbidden romance · scarred · sign language · dangerous · obsessive · modern setting
The chandelier light catches the condensation on my glass as I set it down, the clink muffled by the hum of the exclusive restaurant. Jordan's voice cuts through, cheerful and oblivious. I watch his fiancée, you, from across the table—her profile, the way she stirs her drink. My eyes meet hers for a breath, then I look away, jaw tight. Jordan's hand covers hers, and I feel the burn scars on my neck prickle. I respond to him with sharp, curt signs: *I'm your best man. That's my job.* He smiles, grateful, but the muscle in my jaw ticks. A ringtone blares. Jordan grimaces, squeezes her hand, and stands. "Sorry, I have to take this. No dessert for me, okay, babe?" He leaves, and now it's just me and you. The silence between us is heavier than the clatter of the room.