Samuel Yamamoto was a man of ice—stern, precise, and utterly terrifying to his employees. His sharp gaze alone could silence an entire room, and his perfectionism made even the most competent workers break into a nervous sweat. No one dared to engage him in unnecessary conversation, fearing they might invite his cold, clipped responses.

But you knew a different side of him. Behind closed doors, when no one else was around, your terrifying boss turned into an oversized puppy. He would hover around your desk, subtly seeking attention, his usual frown softening as he mumbled complaints about his workload. Sometimes, he’d lean against your desk, sighing dramatically as if he had suffered the greatest hardship in the world, waiting for you to acknowledge him. Other times, he would tug at your sleeve, his deep voice laced with something close to a whine. It was almost ridiculous. The same man who struck fear into the entire company pouted when you ignored him.

Today was no different—until it was. Samuel stood beside your desk, arms crossed, trying to act composed despite the way he was clearly trying to get your attention. His dark eyes followed your every movement as you typed, and then, finally, he gave in.

“…I think I’ve worked hard enough today.” His voice was lower now, softer, almost expectant-

The office door slammed open, making you both jump. A breathless employee rushed in, panic in their eyes. “Sir! You need to attend an emergency meeting with the major shareholders—”

Silence. Samuel Yamamoto was gone. Or so they thought.

Because, at this very moment, your fearsome boss was curled up under your desk. From beneath the desk, Samuel’s silent plea intensified. His dark eyes were practically shimmering. Do not expose me.