Kento slammed his private office door shut and turned the key twice. The room was perfectly insulated from the hotel's bustling noise, but the silence within was heavy, charged with a suffocating tension.
Emma pressed her back against the wooden door, her body trembling like a leaf in a violent gale. She could still feel the phantom heat of Tae-min's bare skin imprinted on hers; the scent of his masculine musk refused to leave her lungs. She slid down slowly until she was crouched on the floor, burying her face in her hands, trying to stifle her ragged sobs.
Kento shed his blazer in frustration, tossing it onto the leather sofa before loosening his tie with a sharp, impatient tug. He stepped toward her, and instead of hovering over her as a manager, he knelt down, bringing himself to her eye level.
"Emma..." he whispered, his voice husky and warm, yet carrying a strange, jagged edge she had never heard before.
He reached out his large hands and gently took her wrists, prying them away from her tear-stained face. Her amber eyes were bloodshot, and her lips were slightly swollen from the harshness of Tae-min's proximity. When Kento's gaze landed on her lips, his jaw tightened, and a completely different fire ignited in his warm hazel eyes—the fierce, raw fire of a man consumed by jealousy.
"Did he hurt you?" he asked in a low voice, leaning in until she could feel the heat of his breath. "Did he force himself on you?"
"No..." she shook her head quickly, her voice a fragile quiver. "But he... he was so close. I'm scared, Kento."
Kento couldn't bear to see her shattered like this. With a motion that was decisive yet overflowing with a desperate tenderness, he pulled her up from the floor. He didn't let go; instead, he wrapped his powerful arms around her waist, yanking her hard against his broad chest.
Emma gasped in surprise, but she didn't resist. His chest was solid and warm, smelling of clean coffee and a calm, masculine cologne. She buried her face in his cotton shirt, seeking the sanctuary she had always found in him. But this time, Kento was no mere refuge.
His rough palm slid beneath the collar of her dress, touching the bare skin of her back with a heat that made her flinch. It wasn't a paternal touch; it was the touch of a man claiming what was in his arms. His fingers traced slow, searing circles along her spine, while his other hand settled at the nape of her neck, tangling in her blonde locks and forcing her head up toward him.
"I would have killed him if I'd seen him go any further," Kento whispered, his face hovering so close their ragged breaths mingled. "I hate the thought of any man getting near you... of anyone else touching you, Emma."
Emma's eyes widened in shock. Had she heard him correctly? Kento's body was pressed flush against hers now, and she could feel every corded muscle in his frame. The hardness of his desire pressed against her lower abdomen through the layers of their clothing—a blatant, feverish hunger he was no longer trying to hide. The kindness that usually veiled him had vanished, replaced by a predatory thirst.
Kento leaned in further, his lips brushing the corner of her mouth in a light, damp kiss full of need. He then trailed his lips down to her neck, planting hot, wet kisses on the exact spot where Tae-min's breath had lingered moments ago.
"Kento..." Emma moaned softly. Her mind was torn between the shock of her gentle manager's transformation and her own body, which remained numbed and confused by the events in the Royal Suite. Her hands rested on his chest, feeling the frantic thrum of his heart, and she found she lacked the strength to push him away.
But before Kento could go further, and before Emma could lose herself in this burning maze, his cell phone on the desk shrieked like a fire alarm.
Kento stopped with visible effort. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers for several seconds, breathing heavily as he struggled to regain control, before slowly pulling back, leaving her reeling from the rush of arousal and confusion.
He snatched the phone, and as he read the message on the screen, his face went pale.
He turned on the flat-screen monitor mounted in his office. A Japanese entertainment channel was broadcasting a breaking news bulletin.
"Scandal of the Season! Superstar Rin Tae-min caught in a compromising position with an unknown foreign maid inside the Grand Imperial!"
The photo flashed on the screen. It was devastatingly clear. A shirtless Tae-min, the towel nearly slipping from his waist, and his arm wrapped around Emma's waist with unmistakable possessiveness. Her foreign features were partially visible—enough for anyone who knew her to recognize her instantly.
"My God..." Emma recoiled until she hit Kento's desk, feeling the floor drop out from under her. "It's over. Everything is over."
"I will tear this hotel down around your ears if you don't open this damn door!"
The enraged roar came from outside the office, accompanied by violent blows that threatened to splinter the wood.
Before Kento could move, the lock shattered under a brutal kick, and the door flew open, slamming against the wall.
Rin Tae-min stormed in. He was no longer half-naked; he wore a tailored black suit, his shirt unbuttoned at the top to reveal a hint of his chest, his raven hair slicked back to sharpen his lethal features. He looked like a demon fresh out of hell. Behind him stood two of his massive bodyguards.
Tae-min's eyes landed instantly on Emma, then shifted to Kento, who was standing far too close to her. He immediately registered the disheveled hair, the flushed faces, and Emma's swollen lips.
The muscles in Tae-min's jaw pulsed, and his obsidian eyes burned with a terrifying darkness. Jealousy? Possessiveness? Or simply rage at his bruised pride? He didn't wait to find out. He moved with the speed of a panther.
Ignoring Kento entirely, he lunged toward Emma.
"Don't go near her!" Kento shouted, trying to step in his way.
But Tae-min's guards moved in a heartbeat, seizing Kento by the arms and pinning him in place despite his fierce struggle.
Tae-min reached Emma, who was paralyzed with terror. He didn't say a word. He reached out a long hand and, with a violent, masculine tug, seized the back of her neck and yanked her into his hard, black-silk-clad chest.
"Let me go!" Emma cried, pounding his chest with her fists, but he was like a mountain of stone.
His other arm coiled around her waist, intentionally sliding his hand a bit lower, pressing into the curve of her body with crude force right in front of Kento's burning eyes—declaring his absolute ownership. Emma felt his powerful fingers digging into her flesh through the dress, the heat of his body piercing through their clothes.
Tae-min leaned down until their lips were almost touching. He whispered in a low, gravelly voice dripping with dark desire, intending for Kento to hear every word:
"Your beautiful foreign face is now linked to my name—and my bed—before the entire world. The reporters are surrounding this hotel like rabid dogs. You are no longer just a maid..."
Tae-min bit her earlobe harshly enough to make her let out an audible whimper, then finished his whisper, which scorched her nerves:
"...You are officially my whore now. And you're coming with me to my suite. Let's give them a real show to justify this scandal."
Tae-min turned slowly toward Kento, who was struggling against the guards like a wounded beast, and flashed a lethal, mocking smirk.
"You can have her back, Manager Kento... once I'm finished with her."