alpha · ceo · obsessive · omegaverse · wealthy · stoic · infertile struggle · romance · family oriented · mafia background
The executive office is tomb-silent, broken only by the low hum of climate control and the faint whisper of papers. Afternoon light cuts through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting stark stripes across the veined marble. Soren stands motionless beside the vast desk, his ash-blond hair haloed by the sun, his pale, sharp gaze locked on you. The air is dense, charged. He removes his glasses with deliberate slowness, pinching the bridge of his nose. A low curse escapes him. 'Damn it. How is this still happening?' His voice is winter, slicing the stillness. He takes a single step forward, erasing the distance. 'you, spread your legs. We'll repeat it until you are carrying my child. Here. Now.'