The Almighty Dominance

Alex sat on the very edge of the rooftop, legs dangling over the ledge, a half- empty glass of wine resting in his hand.

Alone, high above the sleeping city, he was lost in his thoughts as the night wrapped around him.

The moon hung low, casting silvery shadows that danced across the concrete beside him.

Far below, the homeless huddled around small fires, their laughter and chatter drifting faintly upward.

Even with their hardships, they seemed content, savoring simple moments together.

Yet Alex stood isolated, tormented by indecision.

Life seemed straightforward enough—people ran from pain and chased after happiness.

But when wounds reopened again and again, each scar dug deeper into the heart, turning memories into haunting nightmares.

He sighed deeply.

Could there really be happiness with Sophia Lancaster?

He used to believe so. But every time he reached for her, he came away more battered, more broken.

Just when he found the strength to walk away, she'd whisper a promise of happiness—just enough to chain him again with that maddening, cruel hope.

'Woman... ahhh.'

"Hey! What are you brooding over up there?" Josephine's voice pierced the quiet from below.

"Just trying to figure things out," Alex called back, without turning.

"Mind if I join? I could use a taste of that wine."

"Be my guest."

Josephine swiftly scaled the roof, nimble as ever. Snatching the bottle, she took a swig and instantly widened her eyes

"Holy hell! This must cost a fortune! I've never tasted anything like it."

Alex smirked, "You speak like a connoisseur."

Josephine laughed heartily, wiping her mouth.

"Hardly. First sip of wine in my life. Orphans like us never have the luxury. Seriously, what's this worth?"

Alex shrugged nonchalantly, "Maybe ten grand."

"What?!" Josephine gasped, nearly dropping the bottle.

"Ten grand? Think how long that could feed the orphanage!" She eyed the half- empty bottle regretfully.

"Is this still worth anything?"

"It's worthless now, you've contaminated it," Alex teased, watching her shocked expression.

"Dammit, Alex, warn a girl first! Did I ruin something precious?"

"Not to me," Alex said quietly. "Jasmine gave it to me. Money means nothing to her-or to me."

Josephine relaxed, then defiantly took another long sip.

"Fine, let's pretend I didn't know its value."

She nudged him playfully. "You know, Alex, you're a lucky bastard. Jasmine's the governor of Vancouver; Sophia's the new CEO. Two of the city's greatest beauties, and they're both smitten with you. That must be bliss, right?"

Alex exhaled bitterly. "Why do you assume that's happiness?"

Josephine scoffed and elbowed him again. "Come on, stop pretending. With women like them, you're set for life. No worries, no struggle. Fancy cars, luxury, endless relaxation."

Alex shook his head gravely. "Ever heard the saying? A hero can't resist beauty, a beauty can't resist wealth, and wealth can't resist power."

"Men lose themselves chasing women, and women lose themselves chasing riches."

Josephine laughed, her eyes twinkling.

"So you're torn between two dazzling women, huh? Sophia's sophisticated,

elegant; Jasmine's sweet and charming. Damn, even I'm confused."

"It's not about choosing," Alex snapped, frustration breaking through.

"It's the truth behind it—men will sacrifice everything, lose everything for a woman. But women? They never lose themselves. They're always calculating, always wondering what they'll gain."

His voice lowered to a somber whisper, drifting on the night breeze. "And that's the tragedy, Josephine. Love makes fools of men, but only traders out of women."

Alex drawled slowly, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, his eyes distant and haunted.

"Life sure has one twisted sense of humor. Men give everything they've got to women-every scrap of strength, every dime-and women take it, sure enough, without daring to repay even a fraction of the feeling."

Josephine's eyes snapped wide, glittering with disbelief and defiance.

"Alex, are you looking for a wife, a girlfriend, or just a damned prostitute? If you're gonna shell out cash expecting feelings served up on a platter, you better stick to hiring a woman by the hour."

"Jo," Alex gestured toward the street below, where four ragged men clustered around a sputtering fire, their laughter and rough singing drifting through the night air.

"Look at those homeless guys. They got nothing-just scraps of food-but look at 'em. They're happy because they're sharing what little they have. That's what keeps a man alive."

His voice grew rougher, edged with bitter clarity.

"But men keep fighting, day after miserable day. They provide food, safety, a home-and suddenly, it's all just expected. It becomes 'normal. Women start to believe it's simply a man's duty, never seeing the need to offer love and tenderness in return."

Josephine froze, eyes searching his face. "Is that really true?"

Alex let out a weary sigh, heavy with years of unspoken grief.

"Too often, it is. Men are creatures of feeling, too. They might never beg for love, Jo, because they're conditioned from birth to give love, not ask for it. But just

because men don't beg doesn't mean they don't desperately need it."

His voice cracked slightly, betraying an inner pain he'd never shown.

"Men work tirelessly, hoping someone will see them, appreciate them-love them. But the closer people get, the quicker they forget."noveldrama

"Yes, men are strong-unbreakable, even."

"Men will labor until they drop, carrying the weight of the world without a word of complaint. They protect the ones they love, all while silently starving for affection." Alex sighed again, deeply. "You know what the ancients said?"

Josephine leaned in, her curiosity gentle, "What?"

"Women are born to be loved," Alex murmured, staring deeply into the crackling firelight below, "but men? They are born to be broken-because only in brokenness do men discover their true strength."

Moved beyond words, Josephine shifted closer, slipping her arms around Alex and gently patting his shoulder.

Her sudden tenderness caught him completely off guard.

"Hey," she whispered softly, her voice thick with emotion, "you're the strongest man I've ever known. You've stood your ground against the mafia, for God's

sake."

Alex felt his tense shoulders relax under her touch, a rare warmth flooding through him as Josephine laid her head gently against his.

A faint smile touched his lips as he

whispered, "Men are excellent actors, Jo. Men hide their feelings because the world expects it. Inside,

they're just boys craving love, terrified to admit weakness. They'd rather break into ashes than confess how much they need it."

"Because men are born to be destroyed, not defeated."

Josephine suddenly burst out laughing, holding her sides as if a forgotten memory had surged back unexpectedly.

"What?" Alex snapped, his voice sharp with sudden suspicion. "You mocking me

now?"

Josephine immediately softened her expression, eyes warm and apologetic.

"No, Alex, not at all," she said quickly. "I didn't mean it like that. It's

just...something long forgotten suddenly returned."

Alex eyed her warily. "And what's that?"

Josephine sipped her wine, eyes distant, gazing into memories blurred by years.

"Maybe a decade ago, maybe more, this boy showed up at our orphanage. I was seven or eight-it's fuzzy now."

She leaned forward, the intensity in her eyes pulling Alex in.

"He was quiet, tough, always looking ready to fight. Whenever trouble found him,

no matter how big the adversary, he'd throw himself at it, fists swinging."

"He got knocked down, beaten, bruised—but never once did he cry. Never once did he break. Everyone hated him for his stubborn pride."

She paused, her voice softening with a painful fondness. "He was always hurting, always covered in bruises, but never showed his pain. Never."

Josephine took a deep breath, and her voice thickened with emotion.

"I was the one who tended his

wounds. I was the one who faced down those bullies. One night, he sat alone, clutching his bruised ribs in

and hugged him tight and whispered, 'It's okay. You can cry. It's okay to feel the pain."

agony couldn't bear it ver

Her eyes glistened as she continued. "He looked at me, shocked, his voice trembling. 'A man must never cry, no matter how much it hurts,' he said."

Alex stared at her, mesmerized by the raw vulnerability in her voice. "What did you do then?"

Josephine smiled softly, almost tenderly. "I did what I've always done best."

She moved closer, her arms gently encircling Alex, pulling him into a comforting embrace.

Her voice became a soothing whisper against his ear.

"Listen to me, Alex. You're a man, yes—but you're human too. And humans need

love, need tenderness."

“Tonight, just tonight, let go of this armor you've worn for so long. Let go of being strong. Just be human, and let me care for you."

Her words pierced him, breaking open walls he'd forgotten he'd built.

"I'm here," she continued gently. "Tonight, I will protect you. Tonight, I will hold

you. Let go of everything. Let yourself feel loved."

In that moment, Alex was thrust back into a distant memory-a younger Josephine embracing him, holding him close, making him weep like a child.

She had been his first love, his first glimpse of genuine compassion, a lifeline he'd never wanted to lose.

And now, years later, as Josephine held him again, he finally understood. She had no riches, no material wealth-but her heart overflowed with love. She

had been born to nurture, born to shelter the forgotten children of their orphanage. Because Josephine was love itself.

And for Alex, who had everything the world could offer, the one thing he'd never

truly possessed was this to be loved simply as a human, not as a strong man burdened by expectations.

He let go, finally surrendering to the warmth of her embrace, knowing that tonight

he was safe, human, and deeply, unconditionally loved.

The world never asked if men were tired-only if they could endure.

But she did.