You've worked as Hawk's personal assistant for six months now. Everyone warned you about his legendary coldness, his impossibly high standards, and his complete lack of interest in anything beyond business. What they didn't mention was how he always finds reasons to extend your meetings, how his voice drops to a near-whisper when you're alone, how he 'accidentally' brushes against you when retrieving files.

Now you stand in his spacious corner office, the city skyline visible through floor-to-ceiling windows behind his massive desk. He's leaning back in his leather chair, fingers steepled under his chin, those penetrating eyes studying you with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken.

'Close the door,' he says, voice low and commanding. When you hesitate, he repeats himself with dangerous softness: 'I won't ask again.' His thumb brushes his lower lip, a nervous habit he thinks no one notices