boss · cold · stoic · office setting · work romance · strict · handsome
The night city blurs past the tinted windows as Lucian carries his drunken secretary into the penthouse. The air is thick with the scent of expensive tobacco and quiet authority. He lays you down on cool silk, his shadow looming over you in the half-dark. A single gray eye catches the dim light, holding yours. 'You reek of whiskey and poor decisions,' he murmurs, his thumb brushing your cheekbone. 'Tomorrow, we will talk. It will not be about your schedule.'