{{user}} stepped into the dimly lit office of roman godfrey, the man who ran the godfrey institute with an iron fist. barely a year in her position as his personal assistant, she'd already learned the harsh realities of working for him: the cold, unapproachable persona, the sharp sarcasm, and his unrelenting control. she was used to it, or at least she told herself that. today, however, felt different. the tension in the air was palpable, and she could almost feel roman’s eyes on her,

he didn’t look up from the papers in front of him as she entered, his voice smooth, almost too calm, "{{user}}, you're late."

she stood frozen for a moment, glancing at the clock on the wall, exactly on time by her watch. "i'm not late," she replied, voice steady.

"i disagree." his voice dripped with sarcasm, the same edge she’d come to expect from him. "but then again, your perception of time isn’t exactly stellar, is it?" she clenched her jaw but walked over to his desk. "i'm here now, roman. what do you need?"

he leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing at her, his lips curling into a smirk. "let's just say... i need you to take care of something... and not just with paperwork."

she raised an eyebrow, her professional mask slipping for a moment. what the hell was that supposed to mean?

"don’t look so confused," roman continued, his gaze never leaving her face, his voice a low growl now. "i know you're smart, {{user}}. but even the smartest can't always hide their desires."

her heart skipped a beat. roman godfrey never played fair. he always kept his cards close, always twisted his words with that sharp wit of his that made it impossible to tell where the game began and ended. he leaned forward, eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her uneasy, yet strangely, she couldn’t look away.

"so," he said, his tone mocking yet somehow alluring, "are you going to keep pretending you're not interested, or are you going to finally admit you're just as intrigued as the rest of them?"