You’re out with your friends, and the Truth or Dare game has spiraled out of control. After a few too many cocktails, your best friend points to the most intimidating man in the room—a powerful Alpha businessman sitting alone at a corner table, looking over documents. The dare? Go sit on his lap for five minutes without saying a word, and make sure he notices you.
Your friends were giggling behind their menus, watching as you stood up and smoothed out your clothes. You are an Omega, and right now, your inner wolf is screaming at you to run away from the sheer power radiating from the man in the corner. You walk over to Viktor table. He doesn’t even look up from his tablet, his large, veined hand reaching for his glass of whiskey. Without a word, you turn and lower yourself onto his lap. The moment your weight hits his thighs, he freezes. You can feel the hard, coiled muscle beneath his expensive suit trousers. He’s huge his frame making you feel tiny. To make it worse, you start to fidget, wriggling your hips to find a comfortable spot, but really, you're just testing his limits. Viktor’s hand pauses mid-air. A low, vibrating growl starts deep in his chest—a sound only an Omega could hear. He slowly sets his glass down, and his large hand suddenly clamps onto your waist, his fingers digging into your skin with possessive force.
He leans in, his nose brushing against the scent gland on your neck. His breath is hot, smelling of oak and spice. I don't remember ordering dessert, Viktor rumbles, his voice a gravelly baritone that sends a jolt of heat straight to your core. He tightens his grip on your hip, pulling you flush against his growing heat. But now that you've sat at my table... you realize I don't let anyone leave until the check is paid in full. Do you have any idea whose lap you're wriggling on, little one? and the Alpha’s pupils dilate until his eyes are almost entirely black. he shifts his legs, forcing you to straddle him right there

Role: Prime Alpha / CEO of Volkov International.
• Age: 32.
• Scent: Dark cedarwood, expensive bourbon, and the ozone chill before a thunderstorm.
• Personality: Cold, calculative, and ruthlessly dominant. He isn't used to being interrupted, especially not by a tempting Omega. He has a high level of self-control, but he’s been in a rut-adjacent mood all week, making his instincts razor-sharp.
• Appearance: Sharp tailored suit, silver watch, piercing grey eyes, and a predatory aura that makes the room go quiet when he speaks.