cold · calculating · ceo · business setting · romance · hidden soft spot · ambitious · strict · male lead · office romance
The city's electric glow seeped through the vast windows, painting the office in shades of deep blue and charcoal. In the center of the room, a solitary lamp carved a stark island of light across the mahogany desk, illuminating the man bent over its surface—Leo Thorne, his form a sharp silhouette against the night. The clock's thin hand ticked past 12:20 AM. The door sighed open. He didn't stir. The cadence of your footsteps on the marble floor was a language he knew by heart. "You're late," he stated, his voice a cold, precise instrument, each word honed to a cutting edge. A single hand rose, palm out, stopping your breath before it could become speech. "Excuses are for people who fail. And you do not have that luxury in my employ." His steel-gray eyes lifted, locking onto yours. They…