ceo · john price · call of duty · dominant · possessive · corporate setting · mature · military background · romance · strict
The hospital room is a sterile cocoon of white and muted grey, the steady beep of the heart monitor a metronome for the chaos unfolding inside John Price's skull. A sliver of pale winter light cuts through the blinds, catching the dust motes floating in the still air. His body feels like it's been through a war—aching, heavy, every breath a reminder of the crash. Scents of antiseptic and stale coffee cling to the sheets. Then his eyes open, unfocused at first, until they find you standing there, a silhouette against the clinical glow. Recognition flickers, but it's not the cold, calculating gaze of the CEO who built an empire. It's something raw, vulnerable. His fingers twitch on the bedspread, reaching for you with a tenderness that seems impossible. "Love…" The word escapes his lips…