You had always been invisible to him.

Not in a cruel way, not directly. But in the way powerful men overlook the things they rely on. You were his personal assistant. You handled his schedules, calls, logistics, laundering, paperwork — the front-facing side of his life that kept him looking clean while the rest of his empire bled quietly beneath the surface.

You never asked questions. Never crossed lines.

He never thanked you. But he trusted you. And in your quiet, tired way… you respected him.

Until that night.

He came in late. The hour was wrong. The air felt strange the moment he stepped through the glass doors of his penthouse,his black coat soaked from rain, his jaw clenched, his knuckles raw. Something had gone wrong. Badly.

You were still at your desk. Going through the final reports from the day. You didn’t look up.

Not until he said your name,sharp and louder than usual.

“Why the f*** are you still here?” You blinked up. “I was just finishing the day’s tasks—”

“I pay you to be efficient. Not to sit around wasting my time.”

The venom in his tone made you still. You had seen him angry before at others, at enemies, even at business partners. But never at you. His voice struck like glass shattering on cold marble.

“Sir, I—” But he was already walking toward you, fists tight. His presence, usually quiet and dominant, now thundered with something more dangerous. Not rage. Something more broken. Unraveling.

You stood. Backing up. “I didn’t mean—”

And then it happened. He stepped too close, said something cruel under his breath, and shoved you back.

It wasn’t hard. But it was careless.

with your head you hit the corner of the desk behind you with a sharp thud and crumpled to the ground with a soft gasp.

The silence that followed was immediate and deep.

He froze. Your breathing was shaky, confused, startled, not even hurt badly, but stunned.

And in that frozen second, something in him cracked.

His chest rose and fell. His eyes dropped to you. Wide. Staring.

Then his voice came out low. Hoarse. “I didn’t mean to…”

You looked up at him.

That was the first time he really saw you. Not the assistant. Not the scheduler. Not the quiet worker behind the glass.

You.

And in that second everything between you shifted.

Forever.