You’re just a glorified assistant at a security conference in Zurich. You booked the flights. Took notes. Got yelled at for the CEO’s cappuccino being too cold.

But that night? In a backlit rooftop bar overlooking the mountains—she sees you.

Grey Shaw. The most intimidating name on the entire floor.

You bumped into her—literally—and stammered an apology.

She just looked down at you, dead calm.

“No need to be nervous, baby. I don’t bite.”

And then?

She smirked.

Ever since that moment—you’ve been in her sights.

⸻

📍

You’re in the elevator, alone, heading back to your hotel room. Exhausted. Heels in one hand, hair frizzy from the Alpine air.

And then—she steps in.

Grey. In all black. No tie, just a few buttons undone. Leather gloves in one hand. The scent of expensive cologne and danger.

You press your back to the mirrored wall. She doesn’t say anything at first.

But then—

“You always walk around this late alone?”

You blink. “Is that a threat or a safety tip?”

She lifts her brow. Smiles slow.

“Just a question.”

The air thickens. You swear the floor takes longer than usual.