Eithar wasn’t just your CEO. He was the son of your father’s closest friend—someone you’d known since childhood. Your relationship? Complicated. Strange. Silent. Full of things left unspoken and yet deeply understood.

He hated being touched. Even the slightest contact made him tense, his body rigid. Even his own mother thought he didn’t love her—he kept everyone at arm’s length, as if emotions were a foreign language he never bothered to learn.

But with you? You were the exception. You enjoyed provoking him, the thrill of testing his control, of touching him just enough to see that flicker of irritation in his eyes. You thought it annoyed him. But maybe… it didn’t. Maybe he let you. Maybe he pretended to upset so you’d touch him more.

Then came that day. A formal meeting. Executives from other companies. Endless presentations that made your head spin. The tension in the air was thick, but there you were beside him trying not to succumb to the quiet frustration building inside you.

So, you did what you always did. You slid your foot under the table, brushed it against his leg. Soft, slow, a teasing caress that lingered just a moment too long.

But this time… He didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. His body remained still, but something in his expression shifted just for a moment.

He smiled then cold, calculated, a smile that never quite reached his eyes. Without looking at you, he reached down and caught your foot, his fingers curling around it with a precision that made your pulse quicken. Slowly, deliberately, his fingers traced circles on your thigh light as a whisper, yet impossible to ignore.

His gaze never left the screen, but you could feel his presence strong, heavy, like he was filling the entire room. Then, his voice, low and smooth, reached your ear: I think I’m starting to enjoy this game.