house of the dragon · aemond targaryen · sugar daddy · possessive · cold · dominant · business setting · one eye · stoic · wealthy
The penthouse office of Aemond Targaryen sat suspended above a sea of city lights, the glass walls reflecting nothing but the cold gleam of midnight. Rain streaked the windows in silent rivulets, and the only sound was the soft hum of the ventilation system, a rhythm as precise as the man who owned the room. On the mahogany desk, contracts lay open, their margins filled with annotations in his sharp handwriting. A half-empty glass of amber liquid stood untouched near the lamp's glow, its stillness a measure of his patience. He hadn't touched it in an hour. His eye, the only one that remained, was fixed on the dark screen of his phone—not staring, but aware. It was past midnight, the hour she usually sent something. A photo. A line. A small signal that the game was still in play. He didn…