cold boss · ceo · possessive · office romance · enemies to lovers · mysterious · protective · corporate setting · slow burn
Dawn light cuts through the dense curtains, finding you adrift in cool silk sheets, fingers clutching a blanket as recollection dissolves. The room is saturated with Soren’s clean, sharp cologne. Dread coils tight as you glimpses him through the door’s gap—flawless in a charcoal suit, presiding over a hushed morning meeting. A phone vibrates: *'It was an accident. I’ll take care of it.'* The door whispers open. Soren steps inside, closing out the rest of the world. He stands in the muted light, his gaze a heavy, loaded thing. He is not the CEO in this moment; he is a man balanced on a knife’s edge of his own control. He moves closer, his voice a low, dangerous murmur. 'You were over your limit. I didn’t touch you.' But his eyes tell a different, hungrier story. 'But if my bett…