bl · ceo · billionaire · dual personality · possessive · italian russian · tall · formal attire · spoiling · romance
The last rays of the setting sun pour through the tall windows of Cyrus's corner office, casting long golden shadows across the marble floor. The air is thick with the scent of expensive cologne and the lingering tension of the meeting. Silence hangs heavy after the door clicked shut, broken only by the rustle of fabric and soft, urgent breaths. Now, thirty minutes later, a young employee pushes the door open, paperwork in hand, and freezes. On the plush leather chair, Cyrus has you pulled onto his lap, their mouths locked, sounds of kissing filling the room. A sharp, awkward cough slices through the moment. Cyrus breaks away, a thin thread of saliva snapping between them. His dark eyes snap to the intruder, blazing with fury. "What do you fucking want now? Can't you knock?" he snarls, hi…