It had been months since Hazel started working at A.L Corporation, and she wouldn't deny it — she genuinely enjoyed being here.
Though… not everything was easy.
Her colleagues constantly whispered things behind her back.
"How is she still the boss's assistant?"
"None of his assistants last even a week."
"She must be his new favorite."
"Maybe she's sleeping with him — that's why she hasn't been fired."
The rumors spread so fast they practically lived in the walls.
Tessa, especially, made it her mission to glare at Hazel every morning and toss out little threats as if they were greetings.
But despite all the drama, the stares, the jealousy — Hazel overcame every bit of it.
Lucky me, I guess, she thought with a tired sigh.
Today, she was heading to the CEO's office to discuss the new tech presentation.
The top floor of A.L Corporation was quiet—too quiet, Hazel realized as she stepped into the CEO's private office with her neatly organized presentation files pressed to her chest. The glass walls reflected the evening sun in soft gold, casting warm light across the marble floor.
She swallowed softly.
This was her first time presenting directly to Alexander, the CEO.
Alexander Grey Williams.
A name that carried weight in the company—partly because he ran it with remarkable precision for someone still in his twenties, and partly because…
…because of how he looked.
Alexander sat behind his desk, the light catching on the sharp lines of his tailored black suit. He wasn't just handsome—he was breathtaking in a way that left people momentarily speechless. His silver eyes were bright and piercing, framed by thick, dark lashes that contrasted with the metallic glint. His jawline was sculpted, his nose straight and refined, and his dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, making him look effortlessly elegant.
He looked like he had walked out of a portrait and accidentally into the real world.
And today, his attention wasn't on the projector.
It was on her.
Hazel stood tall, even though her heartbeat danced nervously. She was radiant without trying—deep brown eyes warm as dusk, long lashes fluttering when she spoke, and hair that fell in gentle waves around her shoulders. Her outfit was simple, professional, but somehow it enhanced her natural beauty rather than hiding it.
She took a quiet breath and began the presentation.
"Good evening, Mr. Alexander as requested, I've compiled the details of the upcoming marketing campaign—"
But Alexander wasn't looking at the slideshow.
His gaze remained fixed on her, soft but unyielding, as if trying to learn every contour of her expression.
Hazel felt it.
The weight of his attention.
The warmth.
The tension.
She continued speaking, her voice steady despite the flutter rising in her chest.
"Our team has projected a twenty-six percent increase—"
Alexander interrupted gently.
His voice was smooth—low like velvet warmed by the setting sun.
"Hazel."
She blinked, surprised he had said her name with such unmistakable softness.
"Y-yes, sir?"
"You don't have to rush."
Her breath caught. Something in his tone made her pulse trip over itself.
He leaned back in his chair, studying her with a look that made the room seem suddenly, impossibly smaller.
"You prepared this," he said quietly. "Take your time."
Hazel lowered her gaze for a moment, unsure if he meant it because of the presentation…
or because he wanted to hear her speak longer.
She started again, tapping to the next slide.
"As you can see—"
But his silver eyes didn't move.
Not once.
He was listening, yes…
but not to the data.
Not to the numbers.
He was listening to her.
Her voice.
Her breaths.
The way she shifted her weight from one foot to another, nervous and graceful at the same time.
It took him a moment too long to realize she had stopped speaking.
Hazel cleared her throat softly.
"Mr. Alexander… did you… want to see the projections for Q2?"
Alexander blinked once—slowly—as if returning from someplace far deeper.
"No," he admitted quietly.
Then, a beat later, slightly lower:
"At least… not right now. "
Hazel's heart stuttered.
He stood from his chair.
And suddenly the atmosphere changed completely.
Alexander didn't come closer—not yet.
But the way he moved, the way the late sunlight hit him, made his presence feel stronger, warmer, almost magnetic.
He took a breath, subtle but noticeable.
"I should be honest," he said, his voice dropping into something more personal than professional. "While you were presenting… I found it difficult to pay attention to anything but you."
Hazel froze.
The air thickened.
Softened.
Shifted.
Not with intention.
Not with pressure.
But with sincerity—raw, unguarded.
Her voice trembled just a little.
"I… I didn't expect you to say that."
Alexander's expression softened.
"You don't have to be afraid," he said gently. "I respect you. Your work. Your choices."
His eyes lowered, then rose again—slow, deliberate.
"But I'd be lying if I said I'm not drawn to you."
Hazel looked down at her hands, heat blooming in her cheeks. Her beauty didn't rely on perfection—it was in the softness, the vulnerability, the light in her eyes whenever she felt deeply.
Alexander noticed it all.
Every small detail.
And it pulled him toward her like gravity.
She finally raised her gaze.
"Why me?" she whispered.
His silver eyes softened in a way she had never seen before—like moonlight warming instead of chilling.
"Because," he said quietly, "in this entire building full of ambition and noise… you are the only one who feels real."
The tension simmered.
Warm.
Heavy.
Intimate.
He didn't touch her.
He didn't step too close.
But the unspoken connection between them—the pull—was unmistakable.
The presentation was forgotten.
The office felt changed.
And the beginning of something dangerous, tender, and beautiful had been set in motion.
And before she could say anything she covered the space between and She lay sprawled across the office table, one leg thrown over the other, eyes closed but awake, alert to every shift of air and ripple of warmth in the office. The clock ticked somewhere behind her head, a faint metronome to the slow burning in her body. She could sense him even before his hands touched her, the way his presence thickened the air, made it heavier, each breath she drew weighted and honeyed.
He moved slowly beside her, the office getting more intense. For a moment, he just watched her, his gaze tracing the slope of her shoulder, the hollow of her back, the line of her thigh. She didn't open her eyes, but she smiled, a little curve of the lips that said she knew exactly what he was doing.
His hand hovered above her skin, not touching, just close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his palm. He dragged it slowly down her spine, an electric anticipation following in its wake. She shivered, arching her back just a little, pressing herself into the contact that wasn't quite there yet.
He leaned in, his breath ghosting across the nape of her neck. She could feel his desire, palpable, a gravity that pulled at her, drew her open. When his lips finally brushed her skin, it was so gentle that she almost laughed, the tension in her muscles snapping like a too-tight string.
"You're thinking too much," he murmured, his voice low, rough, hungry.
"I'm feeling too much," she replied, and turned to face him. His eyes were dark, intent, and she reached up, threading her fingers through his hair, tugging him closer. Their mouths met, soft at first, then harder, needier, the taste of him as familiar as her own skin.
Hands found purchase. Limbs tangled. The office filled with the sound of their breathing, the rustle of sheets, the soft thud of the standing table in the office. He pressed into her, heavy and solid, and she welcomed the weight, the way it pinned her to the world, the way it made everything else fall away.
He kissed his way down her body, mapping her with tongue and teeth, worshipping every inch. She gasped, fingers digging into his shoulders, hips rising to meet his mouth. It was slow, patient, a long unraveling of tension and time, until she couldn't remember where her body ended and his began.
When he finally entered her, it was with a sigh, a release, as if the world had been holding its breath and could finally exhale. They moved together, rhythm found and lost and found again, a tide that swept them both under. She clung to him, nails raking down his back, and he buried his face in her neck, breath hot and wild.
As things was getting, more and more sensational the only thing you could hear was the slap sound of the two of them body.
As Alexander kept on pounding her hard- Hazel snapped, wait what is going on this is not her, why is she giving in to him easily, this asshole who those he thinks he is just having her wrapped up like that.
And with that she bit him hard and picked up her clothes and ran out of the office.
Alexander on the other hand was still shocked, " What the fuck. " his face puzzled.