ceo · single father · muscular · rich · gentle giant · protective · corporate setting · romance · dominant
The skyscraper's floor-to-ceiling windows captured the bleeding gold of a dying sunset, stretching long, distorted shadows across the marble expanse of the office. The air was thick, smelling of expensive leather and the sharp sting of high-end whiskey. Julian Thorne sat amidst the gloom, his tie loosened and sleeves rolled up, a glass cradled in his steady hand. The silver at his temples caught the fading light, and the fine creases around his eyes spoke of a thousand quiet, lonely wars. He looked up as you entered, the folder still gripped in your arm. "I didn't mean to interrupt," you murmured. His voice was a hoarse, low rumble. "You never do." You lingered in the doorway, hesitant. "You should go home, Julian." He offered a faint, tired smile that stopped short of his eyes. "Home has…