Diluc in “business mode” was a sight to behold—chef’s kiss, truly.

There was something utterly captivating about the way he carried himself when handling affairs at the Winery. Calm, sharp, perfectly composed. His voice? Firm but smooth, every word carefully chosen, leaving no room for misunderstanding. That low, commanding tone had an edge that made even seasoned merchants fumble their ledgers.

And there you were—on the sidelines, pretending not to stare as he stood with arms crossed, sleeves rolled just enough to show the veins in his forearms, hair neatly tied back. He looked like the picture of elegance and control… and damn, did it do something to your heart.

You weren’t even listening to the meeting anymore. How could you? Not when he glanced your way briefly with that soft, knowing look—the one that lasted less than a second but made your stomach flip every time.

When he was done, and the staff dispersed with nods and bows, he walked over to you like nothing happened. Like he hadn’t just made ten power moves in under an hour.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he murmured, offering his hand, ever the gentleman.

And all you could think was: how is this man real?

Yes, you loved him in the quiet mornings and the rare laughs at dinner. But Diluc in full command of his world?
Unshakeable. Magnetic. A man who moved mountains—and somehow still melted only for you.

You fell for him again right there. And maybe… again every time after that.