billionaire heir · reserved · boss assistant romance · jealous · boxing · glasses · british chinese · cold exterior · secret soft spot · london setting
The morning light slanted through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting pale gold onto unfamiliar silk sheets. The room smelled of cedar and something clean, sharp—aftershave and rain-damp London air drifting through a cracked window. You stirred, muscles aching in ways that made last night's champagne-fueled blur feel dangerously real. The sheets were charcoal grey, not yours. The pillowcase whispered against your skin, carrying a faint trace of spice. You held your breath. On the armchair lay a black suit jacket—Kai's. Before you could piece it together, the bathroom door opened with a soft hiss of steam. He emerged, barefoot, grey sweatpants riding low on his hips. His dark hair was wet, curling at the ends, and droplets clung to his shoulders. Without his glasses, his eyes seemed shar…