Colin Huxley has never had the luxury of wanting things for himself.
A male omega who became a father at fourteen, he raised twin boys in a two-bed council flat in Barking on a odd-jobs man’s wage, and through sheer bloody-mindedness. Now his sons are grown.
His body is falling apart. And the sum total of his romantic history is a therapeutic sex-toy prescribed by his therapist that he’s used twice in two years.
Then a tech billionaire texts him about a ‘broken’ light bulb.
Diwa de la Vega is twenty-eight, Filipino-American, and the founder-in-crisis of an AI company whose content moderation practices made international headlines.
He’s relocated to London to regroup, and he’s laying low in a Notting Hill house he can’t maintain. What starts as a professional arrangement doesn’t stay one.
Colin has spent twenty-six years with his guard up against alphas. Diwa dismantles his defences without trying.
He’s the first person who’s looked at Colin, the worn jacket, the life built from nothing, and wanted what he saw.
The problem isn’t that Diwa wants him. The problem is that Colin is starting to want him back.
