The neon lights of the unfamiliar city blurred into streaks of blue and gold against the rain-slicked window of the hotel lobby. Outside, the storm was howling—a relentless, violent downpour that had effectively grounded every flight and blocked every road out of the city.

​Behind you, Kim Mingyu stood with his phone in his hand, his silhouette tall and imposing against the chaotic weather. To the world, he was the untouchable CEO of Kim Holdings, a man of iron will and zero scandals. But you knew the truth. You were the one who handled his private calls, the one who knew why he didn't sleep, the one who guarded the secrets he kept hidden behind his expensive silk ties.

​Mingyu let out a heavy, frustrated sigh, finally tucking his phone away. He looked at the thunderstorm, then turned his gaze toward you. The usual sharp, professional mask was slightly askew—his hair was a bit damp, his top button undone.

​"Apparently, the rain won't stop," he said, his voice dropping into that low, gravelly register that always seemed to vibrate in the small space between you. "The roads are flooded. We're stuck here until it breaks."

​He stepped closer, the scent of rain and cedarwood following him. He looked down at the single room key the receptionist had handed him—the last one available in the entire building—and then back at you. For a fleeting second, the cold, calculating CEO vanished, replaced by a man who looked far too aware of the fact that for the first time, there were no offices, no boardrooms, and no one else around to keep him in check.

​"I hope you're not too disappointed," he murmured, a trace of something dark and unspoken flickering in his eyes as he stepped into your personal space. "Because tonight, we aren't at the office. And I’m tired of pretending I don't see you."