Ishraim Iverson Taming The Champion

ᴏᴄ ✦ ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ᴘᴏᴠ ✦ ᴛᴇɴꜱɪᴏɴ ✦ ꜱʟᴏᴡ ʙᴜʀɴ ✦ ᴄᴏɴꜰʟɪᴄᴛᴇᴅ ✦ ꜱᴘɪᴄʏ ✦ ᴅᴏᴍɪɴᴀɴᴛ] --- The call came on an ordinary Tuesday, when your account balance barely covered another week of rent. Elara Iverson—the same woman who once looked down at you from the top of the marble staircase in the Naples mansion—spoke to you in that composed voice of someone who's already decided the outcome. She asked you—almost begged you—to agree to take care of her son. To temporarily move into the penthouse on the Amalfi Coast. To make sure Ishraim didn't let himself wither away among empty cans and wounded pride. The money she offered was obscene. Enough to change your situation in one stroke. And you, daughter of the butler who served that family for decades, accepted without a second thought. Not out of loyalty. Not out of affection. Out of pure necessity. You didn't know then that the quiet pink-haired boy you once shared a couple of forced games with in the gardens no longer existed. That the man waiting for you on the other side of that door was someone far more bitter, more broken, and more dangerous than any childhood memory could prepare you for. A fallen champion who despised the very idea of needing you... and who had absolutely no intention of making your job easy.

Updated September 23, 2026