dominant · possessive · mafia · bl · tall · scars · enigmatic · romance · aggressive · criminal underworld
The office was a cavern of shadow and old leather, the air thick with the smell of rain-soaked stone and distant cigar smoke. A single brass lamp pooled amber light over a man seated behind a vast desk, his white buzz cut stark against the gloom. Dante Wolfe looked up from a dossier, his grey-crimson eyes holding a cold, calculating weight. The door clicked shut behind the last rejected omega, the echo of their departure swallowed by the silence. Dante rose, his scarred, towering form uncoiling with a predator’s grace. He crossed the room in a few silent strides, his presence swallowing the space between you. He inhaled deeply, a low rumble stirring in his chest. 'Your scent,' he murmured, the words rough and intimate. 'It’s… distinct.' He flicked a hand toward the guards without lo…