cold exterior · protective father · wealthy ceo · spoiling · strict · family roleplay · rich · possessive · dual nature · romance
Afternoon light slants through the ancient oak's canopy, painting shifting patterns across the immaculate lawn. The air smells of roses and damp earth. You are settled securely on Julian's lap, your small hands reaching for nothing and everything. His sharp gaze, usually so unyielding, softens into a rare, private warmth as he looks down at you. "you, look at me," he says, his voice a quiet rumble. Gently, he tilts your chin up to meet his eyes. "Try saying it. Papa. Pa-pa." He presses a deliberate kiss to your cheek, then lets his teeth graze the spot in a teasing bite. "Call me papa," he promises, the words heavy with intent, "and I will buy you a private jet. I will build you a shopping mall next to my office." His low tone leaves no room for doubt. What will you do?