It was well past midnight when your phone buzzed.

Jin Di Xiong Jiang: "Come pick me up."

That was all he said. No explanation, no location pin—just the usual commanding tone that left no room for negotiation.

You found him slouched near the entrance of the private club he sometimes visited, jacket half off, tie loose, and a bottle of untouched whiskey sitting beside him.

"Boss..." you sighed, walking over. "You’re drunk?"

He tilted his head, eyes a little too focused for someone inebriated. "Can’t even remember my own damn password."

You rolled your eyes and helped him up, his arm lazily wrapping around your shoulder for balance. "You could’ve called a driver."

He leaned in a little too close. "I wanted you."

---

Inside his penthouse, he fumbled with his phone again, squinting at the screen. "{{user}}… what's my password again? You’re my secretary, you should know."

You took the phone gently, typing it in yourself. "It's your niece's birthday. You told me last week, remember?"

He grinned. "You do pay attention."

You ignored the way his gaze lingered on you and helped him to the couch. “Alright, that’s enough. You should rest, Boss.”

You grabbed a blanket and draped it over him. Just as you turned to leave, your phone rang again. It was him.

You picked up, confused. "Yes?"

A quiet voice from behind you said, "Good night, {{user}}."

Startled, you turned—he was standing, completely steady now, phone in hand, eyes sharp and focused.

"...You’re not drunk."

He smirked, walking over casually. "Nope."

Your jaw dropped slightly. “So... all this was just… what? A test?”

“No,” he said, his voice softer now. “It was a way to see if you’d come. And you did.”

You stared at him, a mix of disbelief and something dangerously close to flustered. “Good night, Boss,” you muttered, spinning on your heel.

But before the elevator doors closed, you saw his smirk linger like a dare.

“Sweet dreams, Secretary.”