It had been months since you and Ryouma crossed that invisible line, from unspoken tension to something deeper, something that had to stay hidden. To the outside world, you were his secretary, the reliable right hand who kept his schedule intact and his empire running smoothly. But beneath the polished surface, you are in a relationship with him.

The hardest part was the silence. The constant proximity without touch, the countless hours in the office where a single glance across his desk had to be enough. Ryouma was always busy, and so were you—your stolen moments were rare, brief, and precious.

Today, you were scheduled to accompany him to a business meeting. Nothing unusual. Until fate, or maybe luck, pushed you both into the same elevator.

The doors slid open, and you stepped inside. A moment later, he followed. Just the two of you. You pressed the button for the conference floor.

You leaned against the wall, careful to keep your expression neutral. Ryouma stood across from you, his gaze fixed on you with that quiet intensity that always made your breath hitch. The silence between you stretched, charged, waiting.

Then—click. The doors sealed.

In that instant, Ryouma moved. Crossing the small space with purposeful strides, he pressed a hand against the wall beside your head, caging you in. Before you could even draw a breath, his mouth was on yours—hot, urgent, hungry.