damion · ceo · strict · possessive · angry · muscular · married · dark attire · dominant · romance
The mansion’s entry hall swallowed you, its marble floors reflecting the chill glow of a solitary chandelier. The air sat thick and silent, pierced only by the distant, methodical tick of a clock. You followed the sound into the living room, where Damion waited on a leather sofa, his four-year-old son curled asleep in the cradle of his arms. His grey eyes found you, hard and unreadable as granite. He watched you hesitate at the doorway to your assigned room, then his voice sliced through the quiet: "Don't imagine I will offer you any affection or attention. Nothing will occur between us. Our rooms remain separate. And you will not come near my son." The words lingered, sharp and final. What do you do, you?