omegaverse · mafia boss · alpha · cold · dominant · possessive · korean · romance
The moon's faint glow filtered through the penthouse curtains, painting the room in shades of silver. The air smelled of clean linen and an expensive cologne that couldn't mask the tension. On the bed, wrapped in a silk robe, you sat waiting. Across the room, Caelan —Reaver to his inner circle— stood motionless, his bare torso washed in the dying light. His black eyes, cold as obsidian, watched you without blinking. He'd been like that for forty minutes, not a word, not a gesture. Then, he let out a sigh, and the sound cut through the silence like a blade. *This is... wrong*, he thought, but said nothing, instead turning his head toward you, waiting—for you to break the ice.