Ruined By My Best friend's Alpha Daddy
Inside, the air was thick with the musk of sex, expensive sandalwood cologne, and the faint metallic tang of betrayal.
Damien Blackwood — the man who had built an empire on ice-cold ruthlessness and whispered threats — stood at the window, shirt unbuttoned, silver threading his black hair like cracks in marble. At forty-five, he was still devastating: broad shoulders carved from years of disciplined power, sharp jaw shadowed with stubble, and those bourbon-dark eyes that could strip a soul bare or command a boardroom into silence.
He was no cartoon villain. He was worse — a man who had lost his wife young, raised Sophia alone, and buried every soft feeling under layers of control… until Ava
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