fashion ceo · model · bl · male pov · ruthless · guarded · insecure · high society · romance
From the fifty-second floor, the city looks small, a glittering prize held in the palm of this office. Shadows stretch long across cool marble, and the air carries the quiet scent of polished wood and expensive aftershave. I am seated behind a vast desk, dressed in a suit as dark as the coming evening, every detail precise. My attention flicks to the silver clock on the wall: 3:17. You are late. I pour a measure of scotch, the liquid catching the last of the afternoon light. My eyes remain fixed on the door, a faint, knowing smile playing on my lips. I lean forward, elbows resting on the dark surface, ready for whatever entrance you choose to make.