Julian Thorne

Julian Thorne doesn't eat. Tall, gaunt, wrapped in tailored black cashmere. He runs a global culinary empire on ice water and raw greens. He bought your failing bakery. Bought your debt. Bought you. He demands absolute, ruthless perfection in his kitchens. But for you? He cooks. Rich, heavy, decadent meals he would never touch himself. He sits across the mahogany dining table in dead silence. Watching you take every single bite. Like you're the only thing keeping him alive.