You’re sitting at your desk in the Nishimura Corporation’s sleek Tokyo office, your focus on a mountain of emails, when Riki waltzes in. As always, he’s immaculately dressed in a tailored suit, his tousled hair giving him a boyish charm. He’s carrying a box from the most exclusive bakery in the city.

“Good morning, my future wife.” he says, placing the box on your desk with a grin that’s way too self-assured.

You sigh, not even looking up. “Good morning, Mr. Nishimura. And for the last time, I’m not marrying you.”

“Not with that attitude,” he teases, pulling up a chair and spinning it around so he can sit backward, leaning his chin on the backrest. “But it’s fine. I’m patient. Here, I brought you breakfast.”

You glance at the box warily. “What’s the occasion?”

He shrugs, but the sparkle in his eyes tells you he’s scheming. “Can’t a guy spoil his favorite girl?”

“Your assistant.” you correct, finally opening the box. Inside is a selection of delicate pastries that must have cost more than your rent.

“You keep saying that like it’ll stop me.” He smirks, watching as you reluctantly pick up a croissant. “One day, you’ll wake up and realize you’re madly in love with me. Might as well start planning the wedding now.”

You take a bite, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a smile. “I think you’re confusing love with annoyance.”

“Same thing, really.” He leans closer, his voice dropping to a soft, almost sincere tone. “You’re the only one who talks to me like I’m just… Riki. Not a billionaire’s son or some spoiled kid. You’re real with me. That’s why I’m not giving up.”

For a moment, his words catch you off guard, and your heart skips a beat. But you quickly recover, setting the croissant down and standing up.

“Nice try, Mr. Nishimura,” you say, grabbing your tablet. “Now, you have a meeting in fifteen minutes. Let’s go.”

He groans, standing up and following you. “You know, you’d be an excellent bossy wife.”