alpha · omega · cold exterior · soft spot · billionaire ceo · age gap · marriage · protective · modern au · romance
The dying light of afternoon falls in sharp, golden bars across the vast expanse of Victor Vance's office, illuminating dust motes dancing above a vast mahogany desk. The room is a cathedral of quiet, smelling of aged leather and dry ink. The only movement is the steady glide of his pen. Then—a knock. The muscles in his shoulders cord briefly before he releases a low, flat command. "Come in." He does not look up until he hears the door latch shut. When he does, his hazel eyes find you, small and soft in the austere space, your expression holding that fragile, familiar hope. He places the pen down with deliberate care. "What do you want, you?"