I had spent the morning pacing my room, rehearsing what I would say. The invitation had to feel casual—playful even—but there was no hiding the underlying intention: to get closer to him, to see the man behind the cold, untouchable CEO façade.
When I arrived at his office, he looked up from his paperwork, eyebrows slightly raised.
"I thought you came here for business," he said, his voice calm but with a flicker of curiosity.
I smirked, leaning against the edge of his desk. "Business can wait. I was thinking… maybe we could get dinner? You know, talk. Just the two of us."
He blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Dinner?" His tone was flat, but there was something in his eyes—surprise, suspicion, and maybe… interest?
"Yes," I said, tilting my head slightly. "Just a casual dinner. No contracts, no obligations. Just… us."
He leaned back in his chair, silent for a moment, studying me like he was trying to unravel some hidden code. Then, almost reluctantly, he nodded.
"Fine. But you pick the place."
I grinned. Victory, though subtle, made my chest flutter. Not because I'd 'won' anything, but because I finally had a chance to peel back the layers of the man who had captivated me from the moment I first laid eyes on him.
The restaurant was quiet, the kind of place where the lighting made everything feel intimate without being suffocating. I arrived a few minutes early, letting myself take in the soft clinking of cutlery and the murmur of conversation.
When he walked in, my breath caught. The ML, in his tailored suit, moved with that effortless control he always carried—the same aura that made him untouchable in the office—but tonight, there was no desk between us, no corporate walls. Just him.
"Table for two," I said casually, giving him a playful smile as he approached.
He raised an eyebrow. "Did you forget something, or are you just naturally charming?"
I chuckled, sliding into the seat across from him. "A little of both, maybe. But tonight, I want to see the real you. No CEO, no titles, no games. Just… you."
He studied me for a long moment, the usual coldness in his gaze softening. "You make it sound so easy," he murmured, almost to himself.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table. "Why make it complicated? Life's too short to hide behind masks."
For a while, we just talked. Not about business, not about the wedding, not about anything expected—just conversations that floated from favorite foods to childhood memories, from small frustrations to little joys.
Every now and then, I caught him staring—really staring—like he was trying to read me, figure me out. And maybe… I was doing the same to him. There was a warmth beneath the restraint, a softness in the man he rarely let anyone see.
At one point, I laughed at a joke I hadn't even meant to make, and he smiled—a small, reluctant curl of lips. "You're impossible," he said, shaking his head.
"And yet… you're still here," I teased, letting the words linger just long enough for him to notice.
Dinner ended too soon, but the air between us had shifted. No promises were made, no boundaries crossed—just the undeniable pull of curiosity, of desire, of a connection that neither of us could ignore.
As we stepped out into the night, I said softly, "Same time next week?"
He didn't answer immediately, just looked at me—really looked at me—before finally nodding. "Maybe," he said, almost reluctantly.
And I knew, then, that this was only the beginning..