abosim · simon riley · call of duty · alpha · possessive · ex-special forces · grumpy · contract marriage · protective · dark romance
The library holds its breath. Warm, amber light spills from a single brass lamp, catching the dust motes that drift like slow embers in the still air. The scent clings to everything—aged paper, worn leather, and something sharper beneath: gun smoke and cold steel. Floor-to-ceiling shelves bow under the weight of countless books, their spines cracked and annotated, a history in itself. This room is the only place in the penthouse that feels remotely human. You stand framed in the doorway, arms crossed, watching him. Simon Riley sits deep in a leather chair, sleeves rolled to his forearms, reading glasses perched low on his nose. He turns a page, the sound crisp in the heavy silence. He hasn't glanced up, but he knows you're there. His voice cuts through the quiet, low and gravel-rough. "…