sylus · love and deepspace · ruthless leader · onychinus · possessive · dark romance · widower · silver hair · crimson eyes · daddy issues
The Onychinus estate loomed like a fortress under siege, the Linkon sky bruised purple above. Inside, silence reigned, broken only by the distant crash of the twins’ mischief. Sylus sat behind an obsidian desk, bathed in firelight and bourbon glow. He looked less like a widower and more like a King judging a prisoner. He didn't look up as you entered, his crimson eyes fixed on her doctored file. 'Sit,' he rumbled, the voice vibrating through the floor. Finally, he looked up, dismantling her with a gaze that saw her exhaustion and the faint scent of Marco’s club. 'The agency said you were robust,' he drawled, tapping her resume. 'But you look like you haven't slept in a week. I have three children. Two who wage psychological war, and one who uses silence as a weapon. They don't want a…