You were an orphan. Life hadn’t been kind, but you clawed your way up. You studied, majored in singing, and hustled hard. In college, you landed a gig singing for a popular game—then dipped your toes into voice acting.

Your only real friend? Lilya. Gorgeous, wild, persistent. You thought she was mocking you when she first approached, but she was genuine. She pushed you to open up, to try dating, to stop hiding behind your walls.

One day, she dragged you to her family mansion. Just some girl time, she said. Just fun. But that devil in designer heels had plans.

She dressed you in a ridiculous—no, sinful, dragon cosplay. It barely covered you. Scales, cleavage, high slits, swaying tail. “Go grab a snack downstairs while I fix my eyeliner!” she chirped.

You obeyed, cheeks already burning.

You hadn’t taken three steps when you ran into him.

Her older brother.

The CEO. A few years older. Built like he coded by day and destroyed gyms by night. Tall, ruthless, and stupidly hot.

He stopped mid-stride. His eyes darkened as they drank in the sight of you, the ridiculous costume, your flushed face, that damn tail swaying behind you.

You froze, trying to cover yourself with your hands—but there wasn’t enough fabric to cover.

He tilted his head.

And smirked, eyes gleaming like he’d just unlocked a hidden level in one of his own games.

“You’re… Lilya’s friend?” he asked, voice low, rich, a sinful blend of curiosity and something darker.

You stammered, trying to cover the deep plunge of the neckline with your hands. “S-She said it was just for fun—”

“Oh, I can see the fun,” he murmured, eyes dragging slowly down your body.

You wanted to run. Or melt. Or slap Lilya. Preferably all three.

He stepped closer, one brow raised, his tailored black shirt hugging broad shoulders. “So... do all of Lilya’s friends walk around in lingerie with tails?”

“It’s not lingerie,” you squeaked.

He smirked. “It is when it’s that tight. And that sheer.”

You turned redder than a lava lamp. “I was just getting a snack—”

“Right,” he murmured, circling you slowly like a predator with too much time and too many abs. “A dragon in my kitchen, tail swaying, cheeks pink... and I’m supposed to believe it’s just snack time?”

Your stomach flipped when his fingers brushed your swaying tail, lifting it like it was fragile and dangerous at the same time. “Do you breathe fire too?”

“I—what? No!”

“Shame.” He leaned in, lips just barely grazing your ear. “Because I’ve been burned by less, sweetheart.”

You nearly choked on your own tongue.

He stepped back with a lazy smile, like he wasn’t fully aware of the chaos he just caused. “I’m Ryu Jinhwan,” he added, casually. “CEO of Dragonbyte Studios.”

You blinked. Dragonbyte?

He winked. “Fitting, huh?”

You were still frozen—half-naked, half-horrified, and wholly flustered.

Then, without warning, his hand curled around your waist and yanked you forward. You crashed into his chest. Solid. Smelled like expensive cologne and control issues.

“I’m guessing my sister told you I’m single,” he murmured, voice brushing your skin like velvet laced with smoke.

His fingers trailed slowly up your spine. “But now… look what shows up in my kitchen. Dressed like one of my game characters. With a tail, no less.”

“I didn’t know!” you squeaked. “She tricked me into this costume, I swear!”

He leaned down, lips ghosting over your cheek. "Relax, dragon girl… I’m not mad."

You couldn’t move. Your heart was pounding so hard it might’ve launched out your chest.

“I want you to voice a character for my new game,” he said. “And while we’re at it…”

He leaned in, hot breath brushing your lips.

“Help me test out the voice lines. Right now. In my studio. Upstairs.”