The conference room smelled faintly of coffee and ink. Afternoon sunlight spilled through the blinds, striping the table with gold and shadow.
Lin Xinyi sat in her usual seat, posture perfect, expression calm. Around her, managers flipped through slides and discussed quarterly projections, their voices a steady rhythm of corporate language.
Across the table, He Zhiyuan looked like the picture of composure—suit sharp, pen steady, expression unreadable. The model executive.
Which would've been impressive—
if she hadn't known exactly how that same man whispered her name against her skin the night before.
She coughed once, clearing the thought. Professional. Focus, Lin Xinyi.
Her phone buzzed once.
Hidden beneath a folder, the screen lit up.
Zhiyuan: Don't frown like that.
The finance director looks terrified.
Her brows lifted slightly. She typed under the table.
Xinyi: I'm not frowning.
I'm thinking. Some people work, you know.
Zhiyuan: I am working.
Thinking about you counts as work.
Her hand froze mid-type. Across the table, he didn't even look up—still reviewing a report, pen tapping once against the page. Only the faintest curve of his lips betrayed him.
Xinyi: Vice President He, please remember where we are.
Zhiyuan: A company meeting.
About productivity.
You're currently lowering mine.
She bit back a laugh that almost slipped out. Her shoulders trembled once, quickly smoothed.
He continued speaking to the team as if nothing had happened, voice calm and measured.
Meanwhile, her phone lit up again.
Zhiyuan: Stop smiling.
People will think I said something funny.
Xinyi: You did say something funny.
You said you were working.
Zhiyuan: Mm.
You're my overtime, remember?
Her breath hitched just slightly. This man—
She typed back quickly,
Xinyi: Focus on the report before I fire you.
Zhiyuan: And lose your husband and your VP in one go?
Risky move, Director Lin.
Her hand slipped. The pen rolled off her notebook. She stooped quickly, hoping no one saw the faint pink rise to her cheeks.
From a few seats away, Assistant Zhou's head tilted slightly. His gaze darted between his two superiors. Both seemed calm, unbothered—too calm, actually.
Strange, he thought, adjusting his glasses. Vice President He smiled. In a meeting.
By the time the reports ended, everyone was packing up. Xinyi stood, smooth as ever, gathering her files. Zhiyuan dismissed the team, thanking them in his even tone.
Only when the door clicked shut did he glance her way.
"Good notes?"
"Plenty," she replied, dryly. "None of which involve your charm."
He smiled faintly. "Pity."
"Keep it up and you'll be charming HR next," she said as she passed.
He leaned closer, voice low. "I'd rather keep my charm... in-house."
Her eyes flicked to him—half warning, half amusement. "Careful, Vice President He. The office walls have ears."
"And eyes," he murmured, gaze warm. "But they don't see everything."
Later That Evening
The elevator ride down to the parking garage was silent. Employees greeted them politely as they passed—
"Good evening, Vice President He."
"Good night, Director Lin."
They replied with equal poise, stepping into separate elevators, as they always did.
Ten minutes later, the underground parking was nearly empty. The dim lights cast soft shadows against polished car doors.
Lin Xinyi's heels clicked softly as she approached her car. Zhiyuan was already leaning against the driver's side, coat off, sleeves rolled up.
"You're early," she said, lowering her voice instinctively.
"Couldn't help it," he murmured. "You walk slower when you're hiding something."
"I'm not hiding."
"Then why do you look guilty?"
She was about to retort when movement caught her eye—Assistant Zhou at the far end of the garage, fiddling with his keys, squinting in their direction.
Xinyi froze. Zhiyuan stepped slightly in front of her, expression calm.
From where Zhou stood, the lighting cast their figures in partial shadow—indistinct, barely recognizable. He blinked once, uncertain.
Impossible, he thought. They wouldn't... right?
He adjusted his glasses, looked again—
Nothing. The spot was empty.
He exhaled and shook his head. "I've been working too late," he muttered, heading toward the exit.
Behind a nearby car pillar, two people exhaled at once.
"That was close," Xinyi whispered, pressing a hand against his chest.
Zhiyuan caught her fingers, voice low, amused. "Close calls make life interesting."
"Don't—" she began, but before she could finish, he leaned down, kissing her deeply.
It wasn't rushed—it was deliberate. Warm. The kind of kiss that said I've waited all day.
She gasped softly, pushing at him a moment later. "Still the office," she reminded, cheeks flushed. "Parking counts."
"Then we'll continue at home," he murmured, breath against her ear.
Her heart gave one stubborn skip. "You'd better drive fast then."
The city lights painted the windows gold by the time they reached home.
The door closed behind them. Silence stretched—comfortable, electric.
He loosened his tie; she set down her bag.
"Still crooked," she said quietly, stepping closer.
He smiled. "Then fix it for me."
Her fingers reached for the knot—
and before she could, his hand slid around her waist, pulling her in, erasing the rest of the world.
Outside, the night hummed softly.
Inside, laughter melted into something quieter, deeper—
their secret life resuming where the daylight left off.