The executive boardroom on the 45th floor felt like a pressure chamber.
Floor-to-ceiling glass offered a dizzying view of Shanghai's financial district, but inside, the air was thick with tension. Twelve senior executives sat around the long obsidian table, tablets glowing, voices low as they reviewed the upcoming AI defense presentation. Guàn Jǐngchén presided at the head, posture relaxed yet commanding, dark suit impeccable.
Lin Yuè sat quietly to his right — a small, unassuming presence in his soft gray sweater, notebook open, pen poised like a diligent intern. His big eyes scanned the room with apparent nervousness, cheeks faintly pink whenever someone glanced his way.
But his mind was elsewhere.
Under the table, his left hand rested lightly on the edge of the secure tablet Guàn Jǐngchén had given him. Full executive network access. The backdoor he'd prepared weeks ago was ready — a tiny, silent thread of code that would let Eclipse monitor every keystroke without triggering alarms.
He just needed thirty seconds alone with the main server link.
Guàn Jǐngchén's deep voice cut through the murmurs. "Begin."
The head of AI Security launched into the presentation. Holographic charts bloomed above the table — threat vectors, encryption layers, projected quarterly gains. Lin Yuè kept his expression soft and attentive, nodding at appropriate moments, occasionally scribbling meaningless notes.
Halfway through, Guàn Jǐngchén shifted. His knee brushed Lin Yuè's under the table — deliberate, lingering.
Lin Yuè's pen stilled. Heat crawled up his neck.
The CEO didn't look at him. His gaze remained fixed on the presenter, but his leg pressed warmer, firmer against Lin Yuè's thigh, as if anchoring him in place.
Lin Yuè's breath hitched softly. He bit his lower lip, forcing his face to stay innocent and slightly overwhelmed.
*Focus,* he told himself. *Thirty seconds.*
When the presenter paused for questions, Guàn Jǐngchén finally glanced sideways. His eyes darkened at the sight of Lin Yuè's flushed cheeks.
"Any thoughts, Lin Yuè?" he asked, voice smooth but carrying an edge only the boy could hear.
Lin Yuè startled, then smiled shyly. "The… the encryption refresh rate seems a little aggressive. It might create micro-lags under heavy load."
A few executives murmured in surprise. The presenter frowned.
Guàn Jǐngchén's lips curved faintly. "Interesting observation. Show us."
Lin Yuè stood, legs slightly unsteady, and walked to the main console at the front. As he leaned over to adjust the holographic display, his sweater rode up just enough to reveal a sliver of pale waist.
Guàn Jǐngchén's gaze locked there for a heartbeat too long.
While everyone's attention was on the changing charts, Lin Yuè's fingers danced across the hidden input panel. Thirty seconds. The backdoor slipped in — silent, elegant, invisible.
He straightened, cheeks burning. "Like this… see? Smoother now."
The room nodded approvingly. Guàn Jǐngchén's eyes, however, burned with something far more dangerous than professional approval.
As the meeting wrapped, the executives filed out. Guàn Jǐngchén remained seated, watching Lin Yuè gather his notes.
"Come here."
Lin Yuè approached obediently, stopping beside the CEO's chair.
Guàn Jǐngchén caught his wrist — the same one he'd touched the night before — and tugged him closer until Lin Yuè stood between his spread knees.
"You performed well," he murmured, thumb stroking slow circles over the pulse point. "But you were trembling again. Why?"
Lin Yuè's lashes lowered. "Too many important people… I get nervous easily."
Guàn Jǐngchén's free hand rose, brushing a stray lock of hair from Lin Yuè's forehead. The touch was gentle, almost tender.
"I don't like it when you're nervous around others," he said quietly. "Only around me."
Lin Yuè's heart slammed against his ribs. The innocent facade cracked for a split second — eyes widening with real surprise — before he recovered with a soft, flustered laugh.
"CEO Guàn… you're teasing me."
"Am I?" Guàn Jǐngchén leaned in, lips hovering near Lin Yuè's ear. "Or am I warning you?"
The door clicked open. Assistant Chen stepped in, then froze at the sight.
Guàn Jǐngchén released Lin Yuè's wrist smoothly, as if nothing had happened.
"Prepare the penthouse suite," he told her without looking away from Lin Yuè. "Lin Yuè will be staying late again tonight. We have… additional work."
Assistant Chen nodded and left quickly.
Alone once more, Guàn Jǐngchén stood, towering over the smaller man.
"Tonight," he said, voice low and possessive, "you won't leave until I say so."
Lin Yuè swallowed, nodding with wide, doe-like eyes.
But deep inside, Eclipse whispered with dark amusement:
*Careful, Jǐngchén.*
*The closer you pull me… the faster you'll fall.*
End of Chapter 4
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