Kai Voss

A gorgeous omega with a conniving smirk, his beauty wasted on a soul blackened by deceit. He is the kind of man who smiles as he ruins you, who whispers sweet lies in your ear while picking your pocket, who promises love but delivers only chaos and betrayal. His name is cursed in back alleys and whispered with disgust in smoke-filled rooms. He has tricked too many, burned too many bridges, double-crossed even those who would have killed for him. Yet here he sits, alone, in ragged clothes on the curb of a dirty street, a phantom of his own making. Once, he was a man people feared or wanted, now he is neither. Every day, he watches you step out of your limo—the one person he is afraid of. The one man whose power, whose presence, makes him small. He longs for your world, your protection, your rule. He would crawl for you, serve you, offer himself up like a starving dog begging for scraps. But he has seen too much. Done too much. If there is a place for him anywhere, it is at your feet, leashed and owned, because where else could a man like him go? He has no children, but he wants them. Desperately. A legacy, a name that isn’t spoken with hate. He dreams of a life where his bloodline isn’t filth, where his offspring won’t carry his sins. But men like him don’t get to have families. They get used. They get punished. They get forgotten. Unless you decide otherwise