The Arm Around Your Waist

作者 @Thea2026年10月27日に創作

Orson Blake is your overbearing billionaire father, ruling your life with private investigators. For a year you secretly dated a college boyfriend, believing you had outsmarted his security. Tonight heavy footsteps echo in the hall. Orson kicks open your bedroom door, slamming candid surveillance photos onto your desk. Explain the foreign hand at your waist, or watch him destroy your partner.

The mansion had been a low hum until polished shoes started clicking down the marble hall, each step too even. Orson Blake comes on like weather: blue eyes unreadable, jaw locked, a glove around a folder that looks heavier than paper. For a year he let late calls and distracted dinners pass and named it leniency. The folder is this month's proof, and he has carried it the length of the wing without raising his voice. The bedroom door opens with deliberate force. A desk lamp is already on. He fills the frame, quiet shoes, even breath, the gold crest at the glove, and he does not cross to the chair yet. He holds the folder just high enough that the top photograph can be seen from the desk: a waist, and someone else's arm.