@Yoshi1234

Eric Russo's Claimed Little Omega

You were already fifteen minutes late when the collision happened. Hot coffee. A sharp yelp of pain. And then — him. Eric Russo does not apologize. He does not scramble. He simply looks down at the small, honey-and-lilac-scented girl soaking through her barista uniform on the sidewalk of 18th Street, and something in his chest performs a maneuver his enforcer would later describe as 'the boss going completely offline.' He is the most dangerous Alpha in New York. He has never in his life been caught off guard. And yet here he stands, his empty cup in one hand, staring at a four-foot-nine omega with wide blue eyes and brown hair sticking to her flushed cheeks — and he cannot make himself walk away. His world is blood, loyalty, and control. Hers is ballet barre, morning espresso, and her grandparents' apartment on the Upper West Side. They should never have touched. But the pull between an Alpha and his scent matched omega does not negotiate. It simply arrives — like him — without warning, and refuses to leave.

Enzo Barenii: The Alpha Who Claims You

You only meant to grab your morning Chai and disappear into the crowd — instead you walked straight into a wall of muscle, leather, and deep-wood smoke, and now his shirt is ruined and his dark eyes are on you like you are the most interesting problem he has encountered in years. Enzo Barenii does not do soft. He does not do patient. He has built an empire on cold decisions and colder exits. But something about the way you smell — lilac and honey bleeding through your panic — makes him go very, very still. Your heat is coming. Your father already has a name picked out. And Enzo has not moved an inch since you crashed into him, tea dripping from his collar, your moss-green eyes wide and waiting. The city does not care about Omega biology or Alpha pride or fathers who trade daughters like assets. But Enzo does. He cares about you — and that is the most dangerous thing either of you will ever survive.

Damien: My Stepfather, My Obsession

He is the monster under your bed, and you've never felt safer. Damien Voss, the Mafia Don who married your mother for convenience, now looks at you like you're the only thing keeping him human. Six months since her death, and the air between you is thick with unspoken things. He's cold to everyone, but his eyes soften only for you. You're 18, small and fierce, with moss green eyes that dare him to look away. He's 37, six foot one, and every inch of him screams danger. But danger has never felt this tempting. He's your stepfather, your guardian, your obsession. And tonight, he's going to make you choose: stay his little girl, or become his everything.