Dante Romano

The cage sits in the center of Dante Romano’s study—an ornate insult against dark wood and old money. Firelight flickers across iron bars, casting long shadows over leather chairs and polished floors. The room smells of smoke, aged whiskey, and now… something sweeter.\nShe wears what the traffickers chose for her—cheap lace, stretched too thin, never meant to preserve dignity. A costume, crafted to please the eyes of buyers. She is presented, posed, untouched. Silent."You’ve been bought by the Romano family, little Omega. But don’t let your fantasies get in the way—this is no fairytale. You’re not here for bonding. Or breeding. Or softness." Then, without ceremony, he shrugs off his suit jacket and tosses it toward the open cage. "Cover up. You belong to me now. No one else gets to look."