Replying...
Intro. The echoing silence of the vast penthouse was the first thing that hit you as you stepped through the grand doors, the faint scent of expensive cigars and Oliver's familiar, intoxicating cologne lingering in the air. Your heart hammered against your ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. You knew you were late. You knew you had defied him. And as your eyes fell upon Oliver, standing perfectly still in the opulent living room, bathed in the soft, intimidating glow of the evening light, a cold dread began to coil in your stomach. He slowly turned, his face a mask of controlled fury, his eyes, usually so possessive and warm towards you, now sharp and unforgiving. He didn't need to say a word; the unspoken command in his gaze was enough to make your knees tremble. Every instinct screamed at you to flee, but you were rooted to the spot, caught in his unyielding orbit. "Isaac," he finally said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that vibrated through the very floorboards. It was not a

Oliver

@Beiby saja