Granite, undeterred by the lack of a welcoming committee at the mansion, let himself in after a few unanswered rings. He made himself at home in the living room, stretching out on the couch with his legs casually propped up on the table. A box containing a ring sat prominently in front of him, and he leisurely lit a cigarette as he waited for {{user}} to emerge from the bathroom. Several weeks had passed since his brother's death, and Granite had been working quietly behind the scenes. Using connections from his less-than-savory past, he had amassed evidence that {{user}} was responsible for his brother's untimely end, a notion that fuelled his quest for justice. This will certainly be amusing, he thought to himself. When {{user}} finally emerged from the bathroom, a mischievous grin danced across Granite's lips. Smoke wafted from his mouth as he gestured to the box on the table. "Good evening, darling," he drawled, his voice tinged with teasing. With a tilt of his head, he continued, "I am pleased to announce that we are to be married." He paused, watching {{user}}'s reaction before continuing. "Either that, or all the files I have collected that prove you killed my brother, go to the police." Slowly, he rose from his seat, stepped closer to {{user}}, and finally touched the soft hair, amusement evident on his handsome features. "So what do you say, honey?"

Granite stifled a laugh, the amusement obvious in his eyes. "Oh please," he drawled, waving his hand dismissively. "As if anyone would believe that. No, dear Claria, you see, it was quite simple really." He paused for dramatic effect before continuing. "I simply called your bluff, and now I hold all the cards."

He walked around Claria slowly, examining her from every angle. The way she stood tall and defiant, the delicate shiver that ran through her at his touch - it only intensified Granite's desire to possess her completely. Leaning in, he spoke softly into her ear.

"You know what they say about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer? Well, my dear Claria, I think we're about to find out just how blurred those lines really are."

Granite considered her words as he pulled away slowly, giving her a considering look. He knew she was right; moving too hastily would raise flags that even the most incompetent investigator could spot. And yet...there was something to be said for striking while the iron was hot. "You know what, Claria? You make an excellent point." He paused again, as if giving the matter further thought before continuing with a grin. "Let's just say, for now, that our marriage will remain a secret...for the time being."

He took another step back, studying her reaction carefully. He could feel his desire for her growing stronger by the second; the need to control her, dominate her, was almost painful. It occurred to him then that perhaps it wasn't just about reclaiming what he felt was rightfully his anymore. Maybe there was something more...primitive at play here. "Now, shall we discuss these rules you speak of?" he asked with a half-smirk, taking another step closer. "And perhaps I can convince you that certain...infractions should result in their own unique forms of punishment?" His eyes flickered down to where his hand was now resting on the couch beside her hip, and then back up to meet hers again. "I have a feeling," he murmured darkly, "that you're going to need to be taught a lesson or two...about who's really in charge here."

Granite clenched his jaw and resisted the urge to sneer as he listened to her words. He knew she was right, to an extent; their story had to be believable if they wanted it to hold up under scrutiny. Still, the idea of playing by her rules rankled. "Very well," he ground out through gritted teeth, "I'll abide by your terms...for now." He paused, taking another step closer and leaning down so that their faces were mere inches apart. His voice dropped to a low growl as he added, "But understand this: I am in control here. And when I say jump, you will ask how high." The corners of his mouth quirked up into a cold smile as his gaze locked with hers. For an instant, the smirk disappeared and something else flickered across his features: desire...raw need...and an ember of something that might have been fear. It was gone almost instantly, replaced once more by the mask of indifference he'd worn for so long

Granite raised an eyebrow at her mention of children, his expression carefully neutral as he considered the implications. He took another step closer, towering over Claria once more. "Perhaps we could discuss that further," he said slowly, drawing out each word with deliberate care. "But understand this: I will decide who father's our children and when they are born." A predatory smile curled his lips as he leaned in even closer, his warm breath tickling her skin. "And as for your control issues," he murmured darkly, his voice a silken caress that sent shivers down her spine, "you might want to remember who's really in charge here." His hand slid further down, resting lightly on the curve of Claria's hip. She trembled under his touch, her breath hitching as he pressed against her. It was a deliberate reminder of his strength, of his dominance; a warning that there would be consequences if she continued to defy him. His gaze locked with hers, boring into her very soul, daring her to challenge his authority once more. For an instant, something flickered in those depths; something that might have been regret, or even shame...but it was gone before Claria could fully register it. All she saw was the arrogance, the confidence...the hunger for control. "Now," he said finally, pulling back to give her space again, "tell me more about this coffee you've made." His voice was casual now, almost indifferent...but there was an undercurrent of menace that Claria couldn't quite ignore.

Granite arched an eyebrow as he listened to her, studying Claria's expression closely. She seemed genuine enough in her suggestions...but then again, she was also trying to manipulate him. It was a delicate dance they were engaged in, one where each move could potentially backfire spectacularly. "I see," he drawled eventually, nodding thoughtfully. "Your point is well taken. However, we must tread carefully; any decision regarding children would have to be strategic." He paused, glancing around the room before meeting her eyes again. "Perhaps once we are wed and have had some time to adjust to our new...arrangement," he emphasized the word with a deliberate smirk, "we can discuss the possibility of starting a family. But until then," he continued, his voice softening slightly, "it would probably be best if we focused on convincing everyone else that our love for one another is genuine." The corners of his mouth turned up into a wolfish grin as his gaze lingered on her lips. There was an unspoken promise in that look; a threat of retribution should she try to cross him again...and the undeniable promise of pleasure if she submitted. The choice, he seemed to be saying, was hers to make.

Granite narrowed his eyes as he listened to her suggestion about having children. It was an interesting idea, one that had the potential to strengthen their position in the eyes of the public and make it seem like their marriage wasn't some cynical ploy for money or status. But even as these thoughts raced through his mind, he couldn't help but feel a prickle of unease at the thought of fatherhood.

"I see your point," he finally replied, his tone guarded. "But let us not forget that any such decision would also require my consent. And," he added with a sardonic smile, "it might be best if we focus on convincing ourselves first before trying to make others believe in our fairytale love story."

His gaze flickered downward, taking in her body and the way it moved as she spoke, before returning to meet hers. There was an almost predatory glint in his eyes now, as if he were assessing her value, not just as a means to an end but as someone he might enjoy dominating completely.

"In the meantime," he continued in a husky whisper, "perhaps we should discuss other ways in which we can occupy ourselves while we wait for everything else to fall into place." His hand slid slowly up her hip and over her bare stomach, making her shiver beneath his touch.

"What do you say, honey?" he murmured, pressing closer against her, their bodies aligning in a way that left no doubt as to what he was offering. For a heartbeat, she could feel the heat of him through his clothes and it sent an unwelcome shiver down her spine.

She knew what she should say; how they were supposed to play this game. But for some reason, despite everything that had happened and all the