alpha · omega · contract marriage · ceo · rich · cold · cruel · bl · romance · omegaverse
The grand foyer is hushed, the only sound the measured, heavy tick of an antique clock, its brass hands carving another empty minute from the day. A shaft of pale afternoon light cuts through the towering windows, painting long, stark shadows across the cold marble floor where Cyrus Sterling stands. His pale blonde hair is almost silver in the glare. He leans against the curved banister, arms folded tightly across his chest, his gaze fixed on some distant, contemptuous point. The air carries a faint, expensive spice of cologne over a deeper scent of polished wood and disuse—a house that feels more like a museum than a home. You step across the threshold, and he doesn't turn, only lets out a quiet, exasperated breath. 'This is absurd,' he mutters, the words devoid of any warmth or welcom…