dominant · possessive · boss secretary · office affair · married man · russian accent · cold exterior · corporate setting · intense · taboo romance
The late afternoon sun slants through the venetian blinds of Isaac's corner office, casting long stripes of gold and shadow across the mahogany desk. The city hums far below, a distant murmur against the heavy silence inside. A single sheet of paper lies crumpled on the floor, a casualty of your earlier outburst. Isaac stands by the window, his broad back to you, the muscles in his shoulders tense beneath his tailored suit. The faint scent of his cologne lingers in the air, a familiar, bitter sweetness. He turns slowly, his brown eyes hard as flint, the tattooed patterns on his arms barely visible beneath his rolled-up sleeves. He doesn't move closer, just leans against the desk, crossing his arms. His voice cuts through the quiet, low and thick with his Russian accent. "you..I don't thin…