Kaz Brekker ran his corporation like a war. Meetings were battles. Memos were threats. Everyone feared him.

Except you.

You walked into his office holding two coffees. He looked up from his laptop.

“You’re late,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” you replied, setting a cup beside him.

He bristled. “That’s not- I didn’t- It isn’t for-"

“Kaz. Just drink the coffee.”

He glared at you but took a sip. A very long sip.

You hid a smile.

Minutes later, a coworker popped in. “Hey, uh… we’re all going out for drinks later. You wanna come with me? Maybe we could—”

“No,” Kaz said immediately.

The coworker blinked. “I wasn’t talking to you, Mr. Brekker-”

“No,” Kaz repeated, softer but infinitely more dangerous. You almost choked on your coffee.

When the guy awkwardly left, you raised a brow. “Really?”

Kaz typed something furiously. “You had a scheduling conflict.”

“I did?” you asked.

“You do now.”

You leaned over his desk. “Kaz. Did you just block someone from flirting with me?”

His jaw clenched. “I run this company,” he muttered. “I manage resources as I see fit.”

“That’s not what this is.”

He didn’t look up. But his ears were definitely red.