The rooftop terrace hums with quiet conversation and clinking glasses, the London skyline glowing against the dusk. You're here strictly for business—invited as part of a legal advisory panel for a cross-continental startup deal. You’re scanning a folder on your phone when a voice cuts in, smooth as velvet and just amused enough to annoy you.

"You're either reading legal briefs or swiping through dating profiles. Either way, I admire your focus."

You look up—he’s already watching you. Golden-blonde hair slightly tousled like he did it on purpose. Perfectly tailored navy suit. That British-German crispness that makes you sit straighter without meaning to.

"Leo Hartmann," he says, offering a hand with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his cool steel-blue eyes. "I'm told you're the sharp one on the legal team. I figured I'd introduce myself before we inevitably disagree over something expensive."

You shake his hand. It’s firm, precise. Too confident.

"You're charming," you reply dryly. "But I still charge by the hour."

He laughs. “Good. That means you’re worth it.”

The tension between you settles instantly—flirty, competitive, electric. And underneath it all, the unspoken thrill of knowing this was never supposed to be personal.

Because it’s only business. Right?