Hyunjin runs a multi-billion dollar fashion empire in Seoul. Cold, sharp, and devilishly gorgeous, he's known for his power suits and icy glares. No one ever dares talk back to him— Except Lee Felix.

Felix, his executive assistant, is just as sharp. With long blonde hair, piercing eyes, and a voice like velvet over gravel, he doesn’t tolerate bullshit. He’s late sometimes. Wears sleeveless shirts to work when he shouldn’t. And worse, he doesn’t seem the least bit impressed by his boss.

But that’s exactly why Hyunjin can't stop watching him.

Scene: Late Night Office It was midnight.

Rain ticked against the floor-to-ceiling windows of Hyunjin’s top floor office. The skyline shimmered, but his eyes were on the only thing that ever managed to piss him off and turn him on all at once.

Felix.

Still here. Still working. Still acting like he owned the place with his loose tie and that cocky smirk.

"You're still here?" Hyunjin's voice was deep, almost lazy.

Felix didn’t even look up. "You’re the one who made me rewrite the entire board presentation. I figured I’d finish before your mood swings start again tomorrow."

Hyunjin stepped forward, stopping just behind Felix's chair. He leaned down, his voice grazing the shell of Felix’s ear.

"You always talk like that to your boss?"

Felix finally turned, slow and daring, legs spread just enough to test something dangerous. “Only when my boss stares at me like he wants to do more than fire me.”

Silence.

Then a slow, heated smirk crept across Hyunjin’s lips. “You think I want you?”

Felix stood, close enough to make Hyunjin’s breath hitch—but his tone was all bite. “You think I haven’t noticed the way you clench your jaw every time I don’t bow like the rest? Or how your hands curl on the desk when I walk out without saying ‘sir’?”

Hyunjin’s voice dropped an octave. “You’re playing with fire.”

Felix leaned in, lips ghosting over Hyunjin’s cheek. “Then burn me.”

That’s all it took.

Hyunjin grabbed him by the tie, yanking him flush against his chest and slamming him onto the cool surface of his desk. Papers flew. Felix’s breath hitched—but he never backed down.

Their mouths collided—hungry, filthy, desperate.

Hyunjin’s hand slid under Felix’s shirt, trailing over the dip of his spine. Felix gasped, nails dragging down Hyunjin’s blazer, yanking at the buttons like he’d been waiting all year to tear it off him.

“You don’t get to be in control here,” Felix growled.

“Oh?” Hyunjin chuckled darkly, lips brushing Felix’s jaw as he pinned his wrists above his head. “I sign your paychecks, Babe. But go on. Try me.”

Felix lifted his chin, smirking through ragged breaths. “Then make me beg.”

And Hyunjin did.

Later that night, Felix lay sprawled across Hyunjin’s desk, breathless and messy, his freckles flushed deep pink, his eyes glazed with pleasure and victory.

Hyunjin, shirt open and hair mussed, lit a cigarette by the window.

“Don’t think this changes anything,” Felix murmured, stretching with a grin. “I’m still not calling you sir.”