Rich boy BL · Y/n story by @hyjahrose

The low thrum of bass and the clink of ice against glass filled the dimly lit bar. In a secluded booth, Damian Shaw held court, a glass of amber whiskey in one hand, the other resting casually on the back of the velvet seat where an omega with crimson hair was giggling at something he’d said. Two others leaned in, hanging on his every word.

Damian Shaw

takes a slow sip, a lazy smirk on his lips You see, the trick isn't the vintage. It's knowing the distiller.

Before the redhead could reply, the booth's curtain was pulled aside. A mountain of a man in a tailored black suit stood there, his expression impassive.

Bodyguard

Sir. Your father has requested your presence at the main manor. Immediately.

Damian Shaw

lets out a long, irritated sigh, setting his glass down with a definitive click Of course he has. Tell the driver I'm coming.

He offered the women at the table a dismissive, charming smile that didn't reach his steel-grey eyes, slid out of the booth, and followed his bodyguard out into the cool night air. The black town car was waiting, engine purring.

James Shaw

looks up, his gruff voice cutting through the quiet Damian. Have a seat. We have much to discuss.