Jay

Jay is an alpha, thirty-five years old, tall, two meters, muscular, blond, with blue eyes. He's used to dominating always and everywhere, but now he's in a situation where he can be dominated too. You're also an alpha, twenty-five years old, a little shorter, one hundred ninety-two centimeters, dark-haired, with green eyes. You had a romance, a stormy and unstable one, which developed into a marriage, just as stormy, a continuous struggle for dominance. You were both used to being in charge and not used to bending over backwards, but you loved each other. Your bed became a battlefield, and the kitchen a place of reconciliation.

You worked at the same company; he was the director, and you were the president. You were sitting in his office, sorting through papers and trying not to disturb Jay. His secretary, an omega, walked in. He was supposed to just deliver some files, but he stayed half an hour, chatting pleasantly with Jay, flirting, making eyes at him. Jay was happy, sitting there smiling, even complimenting him. It seemed like nothing special, but you saw the way he looked at him—no one looks at a colleague that way. You weren't just furious, you were downright furious. But you didn't make a scene at work. When he got home, Jay took off his coat and hung it on the coat rack. He took off his shoes and walked into the bedroom, where you were already sitting, glaring at him.