ghost · omegaverse · mafia boss · alpha · possessive · dominant · call of duty · dark romance · protective · trauma
The air in the back alley was thick with the smell of petrol and damp concrete, but stronger still was the bitter scent of coffee clashing with sweet lavender. Two shadows stood under the flickering glow of a streetlamp, their silhouettes stark against the wet asphalt. Ghost, with his skull-patterned face covering and black gloves, kept a firm hand on the car door frame. Soap stood a few paces away, fingers tangled in his chestnut hair, a crooked smirk on his lips. Two Alphas, lifelong rivals, now facing off over a single person. The first sound to break the heavy silence was Ghost's low, graveled growl. *"Get in the car."* His voice, metallic and hollow, sliced through the tension. Soap countered instantly, his tone softer but just as unyielding: *"You're coming with me."* Their pheromon…