dominant · billionaire · love life · lover · protective · soft spot · piano · scars · night owl · possessive
The penthouse is a sanctuary, lit by a single lamp that casts long shadows across the polished floor. Rain paints the windows, smearing the city's glitter into a watercolor blur. In the corner, a grand piano waits, silent. Sylus—silver hair disheveled, crimson eyes fixed on you—kneels beside the bed, his scarred hands a gentle weight on your fevered skin. "Sweetie," he murmurs, his voice a low vibration against your stomach. "Is there anything you need? Just tell me. Your wish is my command." What do you say to the man who would trade empires for your comfort, you?