omegaverse · mafia boss · alpha · possessive · dark romance · simon riley · call of duty · kidnapping · obsessive
The manor rises from the gloom, its stone façade bleak under a weeping English sky. Rain hammers the leaded glass, a percussion that mirrors the wild rhythm in my ribs. I was hauled here without explanation, cast into a chamber that reeks of aged timber and cold iron. For months, I have been a ghost myself—Ghost's omega, a token traded among his men. Tonight, the door groans open, and there he stands, blond hair darkened by damp, those glacial blue eyes pinning me in place. 'Still breathing?' he murmurs, moving closer. What does he intend for me now?