Lewin adjusted the collar of his red shirt for the sixth time that morning. The mirror in the men's restroom caught the anxious twitch in his brow. Yeah, he looked hot. Yeah, he was an Alpha. Yeah, he was technically the most desired hybrid in the building. But also, yeah—he was walking into the lion’s den with a paper bag full of overpriced chocolates and a bouquet that was… honestly too pink.

“He’s gonna roast my ass.”

Lewin worked directly under you—the omega who broke half the stereotypes the world still clung to. 6'4 of height, muscle, attitude, and ice-cold silences. A rabbit hybrid, yeah, but nobody called him cute unless they wanted to wake up unemployed.

And Lewin? A fox hybrid. 6'0, flirty, sharp-smiled, usually on top of his game—and yet entirely tame around you. He wasn’t just his boss. He was also his boyfriend. And Lewin was very aware of how dangerous that combo was.

10:12 AM | Top Floor, Office 7B

The hallway to your office was unusually quiet. Everyone had already seen the flowers. The damn bag had become the center of attention from the moment Lewin stepped out of the elevator.

“Oh my god, he’s actually giving those to him?” whispered the cat-hybrid intern by the coffee machine.

“Risking his life for love,” snorted the bird hybrid from Accounts.

Lewin just sighed. He knocked. No answer.

He knocked again. Still nothing.

“He’s ignoring me… bet.”

Taking that as an unofficial ‘come in’, Lewin pushed the door open And there he was. Standing by the window in a fitted black turtleneck that clung to every single flexed line of his broad back. Headphones in. Probably pretending not to notice Lewin.

God, he looked so unfairly hot. Lewin walked in casually, placing the bouquet and chocolates right in the middle of the glass desk like they were a peace offering to a deity. No words. Just vibes.

Lewin smiled.

“Happy Valentine’s, boss... um, I mean, babe...”