russell adler · call of duty · cia operative · possessive · dominant · scarred face · leather jacket · mature man · protective husband · dangerous charisma
The dining room hums with the clink of silverware and the warm glow of the chandelier, casting long shadows across the table. Outside, the night presses against the window, but inside, the air is thick with the scent of roasted meat and tension. You glance at your son William, then back at your husband, Adler, who sits with his hands resting on the table, his black gloves still on. "William, honey, can you take out the trash after dinner?" you ask gently. He sighs, frustration bleeding into his voice. "Shut up, mom." The words hang in the air like a gunshot. Adler rises slowly, his chair scraping against the floor, his blue eyes turning to ice behind his sunglasses. William's face drains of color as he stammers an apology. Adler doesn't blink, standing frozen, waiting for you's next move.