The city was just waking when sunlight slipped through the half-drawn curtains of the penthouse. Dust motes danced in the golden beams, glinting against the sleek glass and the sheen of silk sheets tangled on the bed.
Miyako stirred, rolling onto her side. Her black stockings still clung to her thighs, a remnant of the night before. Her bobbed hair was a tousled halo across the pillow, her lipstick smudged but still tempting. She blinked slowly, as though caught between dream and waking, before her gaze settled on the man beside her.
Renji was already awake, lying on one arm, his silver-grey eyes fixed on her. He had that look again—half amusement, half hunger.
"You're staring," Miyako murmured, her voice husky from sleep.
Renji caught her wrist when she tried to pull the blanket higher. His lips curved in a smirk. "Because you're worth staring at."
He tugged her beneath the covers, the cool silk sliding across their skin. She gasped softly as their bodies pressed together, bare heat meeting heat. Her hands spread across his chest, tracing the sharp line of muscle, before curling tight against him.
"Don't leave me cold this morning…" Her whisper trembled against his jaw.
Renji's laugh was low, vibrating through her fingertips. "I wasn't planning to."
The sheets rustled with every movement, muffling the sounds of their breaths growing heavier. Miyako's lashes fluttered as she clung tighter, her stockings brushing against his skin with every shift. The scent of her perfume—faint vanilla and something darker—rose between them, mixing with the salt of sweat.
Her moans broke through the hush of the penthouse, soft at first, then louder as she arched and shivered beneath him. He caught her lips, swallowing the sound, his hand cradling her face as though she were both fragile and unbreakable.
Time blurred. The world outside ceased to exist. There was only the rhythm they built together, the silk sheets damp beneath them, the morning sun spilling across their tangled forms.
When the trembling finally overtook her, Miyako's cry was muffled against his shoulder, her body quaking in his arms. Renji held her through it, his own groan following as he buried his face in the curve of her neck, surrendering to the same storm.
For a while, there was only silence. Their hearts beat loud in the quiet, matching the pulse of the city awakening beyond the glass.
Miyako traced lazy circles along his back, her lips curving into a dazed, secret smile. "You're dangerous in the mornings," she murmured.
Renji kissed the corner of her mouth, still breathless. "And you love it."
The room was still heavy with warmth when Renji finally shifted away from her. For a while, they had lain tangled in silence, only the faint sound of the city filtering in through the glass.
He pushed himself up, reaching for the robe draped over the chair. Miyako stirred with a soft hum, watching him through half-lidded eyes before slipping from the bed. The black stockings still clung to her thighs as she padded across the floor.
Steam soon filled the bathroom as the shower hissed to life. Renji stepped beneath the spray, water running down the lines of his back. He closed his eyes, letting the heat soak into his muscles.
A soft laugh followed, and when he glanced down, Miyako was kneeling at his feet, her short hair plastered wet against her cheeks. She looked up, mischief flickering in her eyes.
"You're insatiable," Renji muttered, his voice echoing against the glass walls.
"Only for you," she answered, her smile bright even through the rising steam.
She leaned forward, the water cascading over her as her lips pressed against him, slow at first, then deeper. Renji braced a hand against the wall, his breath hissing between his teeth. The sound of water blended with her soft gasps, the rhythm quickening.
His silver-grey gaze dropped, watching the way she devoted herself, her hands steady on his thighs. When his restraint finally snapped, he groaned low, gripping her shoulder for balance as the release tore through him.
Miyako swallowed with a satisfied hum before rising gracefully, lips brushing his as she whispered, "Now you're ready for the day."
The steam had barely left his skin when Renji stepped back into the bedroom. Droplets still clung to his collarbone, sliding down toward the towel knotted at his waist. Miyako followed, her hair damp, her stockings still hugging her thighs, making her look far less like a personal assistant and more like temptation itself.
She crossed to the wardrobe with the ease of someone who belonged here. Pulling open the doors, she selected a crisp white shirt and held it out without a word.
Renji smirked as he stepped closer, letting the towel fall as he slipped into the shirt. Miyako's hands smoothed the fabric over his chest, fingers lingering longer than necessary.
"You should leave that open," she teased, tapping the last button with her fingertip. "It suits you more… dangerous that way."
Renji leaned down until his breath brushed her ear. "Dangerous is exactly what I am."
She met his gaze, lips curving in a knowing smile, before lifting the dark tie and looping it around his neck. Her movements were practiced, precise, yet the closeness made her cheeks flush.
When she tightened the knot, Renji caught her wrist, his thumb brushing her pulse. For a heartbeat, neither spoke, the air between them charged with the same electricity as before.
"Be careful, Miyako," he murmured. "People might think you're more than my assistant."
Her answering smile was soft but daring. "Let them think."
The city waited beyond the penthouse glass, but in that moment, the world narrowed to the brush of silk tie and the dangerous glint in Renji's eyes.
Renji adjusted the cuffs of his suit as he crossed the penthouse floor, Miyako following a step behind with his briefcase in hand. The city gleamed through the glass walls, bathed in morning light, skyscrapers catching the first fire of the sun.
At the door, he paused, slipping his watch onto his wrist. Miyako leaned in, straightening the lapel of his jacket one last time. Their eyes met—hers sharp, his silver-grey gaze unreadable.
"You look every bit the man they'll underestimate," she murmured.
Renji's lips curved faintly. "And every bit the man who will surprise them."
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime. As he stepped inside, a draft of cool air swept through, carrying the hum of the city's awakening streets below.
The world of Veloria Academy awaited—polished halls, rival heirs, hidden eyes watching. Beyond the glass reflections, unseen cameras blinked red, silent witnesses.
A voice, distant yet cold, seemed to echo in the hush: "He has entered the board. Let the game begin."