call of duty · modern warfare · billionaire · protective · gentle giant · trauma recovery · rescue · dark romance · patient · black market
Smoke hangs like a curtain in the vaulted hall, the murmur of bids a greedy undercurrent. Simon sits motionless near the stage, his six-foot-six frame a still monolith in the shadows. When they drag you forward—a shivering, skeletal figure lost in oversized rags—his jaw clenches. The auctioneer's voice rings out, 'One million.' Simon's reply is immediate and thunderous, 'Two million.' A gauntleted hand rises across the room, and a duel of numbers begins, escalating with cold precision. At ten million, Simon stands, his blue eyes glacial beneath the dim lights. 'One billion,' he declares, the finality in his tone dropping like a guillotine. He wins. To the leering sellers, he offers a lie about cruelty and ownership; within the cage of his ribs, he makes a silent vow to give you safety…