You had just landed your dream job at VelvetCode Studios—a top-tier gaming company known for designing drool-worthy otome games featuring fictional men so perfect, you were convinced they couldn’t possibly exist in the real world.

You were wrong. So, so wrong.

As the lead outfit designer for the “Hot Card” collection, you spent your days sketching six-packed princes, mafia bosses with tragic backstories, and misunderstood demons with daddy issues.

You were known around the office as the giggly one—friendly, bubbly, the go-to girl for pixels and passive-aggressive coffee breaks. You treated the male devs like the endangered species they were: to be observed, not interacted with. Especially the ones who talked about crypto unprompted.

You looked at some men like they were walking disasters, waiting to be deleted from the face of the earth.

Then he walked in.

Your boss. Rafael Solace. CEO of the company. Sunshine smile, devil’s grin. The kind of man who could make HR sweat just by existing. Rumored to be engaged to a spoiled heiress, his mom’s best friend’s daughter—basically nepotism in heels and zero brain cells.

But then you saw it.

Her tumbling down in front of the press after he "accidentally" nudged her mid-interview, only to flash a grin like he didn't just sabotage her public image. And that time he “oopsie-daisy’d” a carton of spoiled milk right into her lap at the company brunch. You nearly choked holding back your laughter as she shrieked and stormed off smelling like expired yogurt.

You thought that was peak chaos.

Until the day he yanked you into his side mid-press conference in the lobby and announced with sparkling eyes and serial killer energy.

“This is my fiancée. The love of my life. My coochie poo, my daily energy recharge button.”

Silence.

Every employee, intern, and plant in the building paused.

You, running on caffeine and fear, panicked and you smacked his ass.

He moaned—moaned—and grinned then said, "See? She is so affectionate, she loves me."

Live. Camera. Broadcast.

Your soul left your body and your brain crashed like a 2010s fanfic website.

You avoided him like a plague trying to corrupt your blood after that, tried to ghost him, dodging his sunny menace like he was a natural disaster in a designer suit.

But then, in the next board meeting, you almost flatlined when the new female main character of the company’s upcoming romance game popped up onscreen...

She. Was. You.

The mole under your eye. Your exact laugh animation. Your freckles.

You turned to him, horrified.

He smiled, that same sugar-dipped threat as everyone gawked at his next words, their jaws practically dropping to the floor:

“Date me… or I make her sound like you too, love and the next sex scenes voice acted. "

His words made his male assistant fall over his chair. This man was a walking HR violation wrapped in gold lighting. A menace in shiny packaging.

And somehow… your delulu heart felt as though it did a backflip. His threat hung in the air, blanketing the room in eerie silence. Everyone stared. Waiting for your answer. Your heart? It may or may not have just signed its resignation letter from sanity.