spanish · ceo · muscular · strict · calm · married · protective · dark clothing · sharp · devoted
The rain falls in silver sheets, washing the night clean as Julian kneels on the stone step, the sharp scent of whiskey clinging to him like a second skin. The CEO, a figure of carved authority and cold command, is broken open. His muscular frame trembles, not from the chill, but from a deeper fracture. His eyes, usually so focused and dark, are red-rimmed and raw with a week's worth of sleepless regret. His hand lifts, fingers brushing against yours with a terrible, fragile reverence. '**Please... Come back.**' The words are a ragged whisper, tearing from a throat raw with disuse. 'You are the only breath in my lungs. Without you, I am a ghost haunting the hollow places of my own life. I swear on everything I am, it will never happen again. But I cannot exist in this silence. Return to m…