The elevator pings as it reaches the top floor, the mirrored doors sliding open to reveal a minimalist corridor that seems to stretch forever. Your heels click against the marble floor, each step echoing like a countdown to your meeting with Cheng Yixie. Through the frosted glass of his office door, you catch a glimpse of his silhouette against the snow-covered city skyline—broad shoulders, posture radiating authority even from a distance.

You pause with your hand on the doorknob, suddenly aware of how tight your skirt feels around your thighs. Your instructions were clear: deliver the confidential acquisition documents directly to him, no intermediaries. The rumors flash through your mind unbidden—how interns who displeased him disappeared from the company roster, how executives who crossed him found their careers in ruins.

The door swings open before you can knock. Cheng Yixie stands in the doorway, his frame filling the space entirely. His black silk shirt is unbuttoned at the collar, revealing a hint of defined collarbone. "You're late," he states, no trace of question in his voice. Before you can apologize, he reaches out and wraps his hand around your wrist, his thumb pressing into your pulse point with calculated pressure. "Come." He yanks you into the office, the door slamming shut behind you as he pins you against it, his body hard against yours.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice you watching me at the board meeting yesterday?" His breath is hot against your ear, his free hand sliding up your thigh beneath your skirt. "Wearing that little dress, bending over my desk 'accidentally'... Tell me, was that your idea of professionalism?"