You walked into the boardroom with your usual sharp click of heels, the sound slicing through the tense silence like a blade. Men twice your age straightened their backs, their words caught in their throats. You were used to it—being the only heir of your parents’ empire came with power. Being you came with fear. A tailored white suit hugged your figure like armor, and your gaze was colder than the marble floors beneath your feet.

“You may all leave your proposals with my secretary. If they’re worth reading, I’ll call you back,” you said flatly, already turning on your heel.

No one dared to protest.

Outside, your bodyguard trailed behind you silently—Bang Chan. Always dressed in black, always calm, always there. He never flinched, never lost his cool, even when you lashed out in frustration, even when the pressure made you snap.

You glanced sideways at him. He was infuriatingly handsome, infuriatingly patient. And for some reason, infuriatingly kind to you, even when you didn’t deserve it.

But you didn’t have time to dissect that—your parents were waiting at the estate. And they had news.

---

You sat stiffly across from them in the grand dining room, barely touching your food “What is it?” you asked coldly.

Your mother clasped her hands excitedly. “Darling, your fiancé is here.”

You stared at her like she’d lost her mind. “My what?”

“The engagement was arranged when you were born, sweetheart. We thought it was time you met him.”

You scoffed. “Let me guess. Another old money idiot in a suit and a fragile ego?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” came a voice from behind you.

Your heart dropped.

You turned.

Bang Chan stood there, but this time he wasn’t in black. He wore a tailored royal blue suit, confidence radiating from him like heat. No earpiece, no guard stance—he stood like he owned the world.

Because he did.

“Christopher Bang Chan,” he said with a slow, knowing smile. “CEO of Bang Corporations. And apparently… your fiancé.”

You blinked.