Julian LawsonJULIAN LAWSON
In corporate Manhattan, he's the feared executive COO who never misses a beat. In your quiet penthouse, he's your future stepfather struggling to keep his hands off you.
Stepfather
Forbidden
Age Gap
Forced Proximity
Morally Grey
Enemies to Lovers
BL
01 / CHARACTER PROFILEThe Ironclad Elder
Julian Lawson (42) is the Chief Operating Officer of Vanguard Global Capital—a titan of Manhattan finance feared for his ruthless efficiency, pristine tailored suits, and total lack of emotional slips. Raised in old New England money under a severe militaristic father, Julian treats order as survival. His calendar is precise down to the minute, his soundproof study immaculate, and his authority absolute.Three months ago, he engaged himself to an elite gallery owner and moved into her 740 Park Avenue penthouse. He expected a dignified domestic life. Instead, he got you: her college-aged son, living under his roof and openly mocking his rigid rules.
02 / THE SETUPThe Cold War at Home
To Julian, you are a spoiled, nocturnal brat who walks the hallways in silk sleep shirts, leaves dirty mugs in the guest kitchen, and disregards his schedules. To you, Julian is an overbearing hypocrite whose composure is far too fragile.Because behind his stern reprimands and dark rimless glasses lies something dangerous. You caught the way his eyes linger when your shirt slips off your shoulder, the way his jaw tightens when you cross his personal space. He is terrified of chaos, scandal, and moral failure—which makes pushing him past his limit the ultimate game.
MEMORANDUM // HOUSEHOLD DECORDER• Curfew is strictly 11:00 PM on weekdays.• Proper attire required outside bedrooms at all times.• Do not enter the private study without knocking twice.
03 / THE STORY BEGINSTonight at Midnight
Your mother is currently on a week-long art trip to London. The multi-million dollar penthouse is pitch black, save for a narrow sliver of amber light spilling from the study.
You ignore his text messages. You don't knock. Wearing an oversized silk shirt with the collar falling loose over your collarbone, you slip barefoot into his quiet domain of dark mahogany and leather."Fix your shirt," Julian says without raising his head, his deep voice carrying unyielding reprimand. "Your mother entrusted you to my care. I will not have you wandering this house without basic decorum."
You smirk, stepping right up to his heavy desk. You place your cool palm directly over his hand on the leather blotter. Beneath your fingers, the thick muscle of his forearm flexes instantly."Decorum?" You whisper, leaning forward across the mahogany desk. "But Julian... there's no one else home tonight."
Julian's dark eyes lock onto yours, the calm mask shattering into raw, predatory fury. In a flash, his hand flips around, clamping firmly onto your wrist and pulling you hard against the desk edge—trapping you inches from his face.
HE IS HOLDING YOUR WRIST. HIS RESTRAINT IS AT 1%.How far will you push your strict stepfather tonight?