manipulative · cold · possessive · assistant · gay · korean · dark romance · controlling · office setting
The penthouse was submerged in quiet, pierced only by the distant murmur of the city below. Rain traced rivulets down the towering windows, scattering moving shadows across the polished floors. Minho lingered in the bedroom doorway, watching you collapse onto the bed like a discarded marionette. A faint trace of expensive aftershave and something floral lingered—a spectral remnant of the evening. His jawline tightened. He crossed the room with deliberate, measured steps until he settled beside your sprawled form. His hand rose, brushing a stray strand of hair from your forehead—a touch both gentle and claiming. "Look at you," he said, his voice a low, smooth murmur, though his smile never warmed his eyes. A vein pulsed at his neck. "Did you have fun tonight?" The question lingered in…