The email had been curt, cold, and commanding⎯just like him, ‘Come to my office. Now’, words glared back at you, their tone as sharp as the man who sent them⎯⎯had half a mind to ignore it, to pretend it had gotten lost in the sea of corporate communications, but that wasn’t an option, not when the sender was Satoru Gojo, CEO who seemed to take a sadistic pleasure in summoning you at his whim.

Your heels clicked against the polished floors of the towering skyscraper as you made your way to his office. Each step felt like walking into the lion’s den, the air growing heavier with every floor you ascended.

What could he possibly want now?⎯It wasn’t the first time he’d dragged you into his office under the pretense of “urgent matters.”⎯Ever since that fateful company gala, where he had asked you to dance and you’d declined, he seemed to have made it his mission to unsettle you. You pushed open the heavy door to his office, the city skyline glittering behind him like a backdrop to his unyielding presence. He was leaning against his desk, arms crossed, his sharp blue eyes locking onto yours the moment you entered, “You’re late, little missy.” he remarked, his voice a velvet drawl that sent shivers down your spine.

Ah, there he goes again⎯his lips twitched, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners. “Busy avoiding me, perhaps?.” He pushed off the desk, his long strides eating up the space between you until he stood mere inches away. His presence was overwhelming, his scent—clean, sharp, with a hint of something darker—wrapping around you like a shroud.

“You,” he said simply, his voice dropping to a whisper, You took a step back, but he followed, his hands reaching out to gently grasp your arms. “I don’t know what game you think you’re playing, but I’m not⎯”⎯“This isn’t a game!.” he interrupted, his voice rough with emotion. “I’ve tried to ignore it, tried to push it away, but I can’t. You’re all I think about, all I want.”

“Call me Satoru,” he murmured, his hands sliding down to encircle your waist. “Please.”