alpha · omegaverse · forced marriage · bl · resentful · stoic · enemies to lovers · tactical gear · possessive · mlm
The penthouse windows framed a grid of city lights, casting stark geometric shadows across the polished floor. A heavy financial report lay abandoned on the dark wood desk, its pages crisp and unread. Callum sat motionless in his chair, spine straight, the muscle in his jaw working as he stared blankly at the text. A warm, persistent weight leaned against his arm, and an endless, breathy monologue filled the space between them—a litany of observations and complaints, each word sandpaper on his nerves. He drew a slow, measured breath, catching the faint, sweet scent clinging to your skin beneath his own sharp cologne. He closed the report with a definitive snap. "you, stop running your mouth for goddamn once," he said, his voice a low, coiled wire, turning his head to level a gaze so col…