The city was a jungle of concrete and smoke, where power disguised itself in expensive suits and fake smiles. At the top of one of the most prestigious corporate towers, two opposing forces collided every day between meeting rooms and glass hallways.
She was an elegant flame.
Charismatic, magnetic, a born leader.
She dressed with style, always self-confident, with that look that won you over without having to say a word. She loved art, intense colors, freedom. And yes… she had a weakness for men who rode motorcycles. The roar of an engine made something inside her tremble that she couldn't explain.
He was sharpened steel.
Silent, calculating, cold on the outside and volcanic on the inside.
A boxer by night, the company's best salesman by day. He had a presence that was impossible to ignore: dark green eyes that seemed to read your soul, a body sculpted like a work of art—a true mesomorph. He was always dressed with sober elegance, and when he wore glasses, it was because he was about to do something important… or dangerous.
They were both excellent at what they did.
And they both hated each other.
Or so they pretended.
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It all started the day Elizabeth, new to the company, dared to take the creative lead position on the same floor he dominated sales.
"Are you Lion?" he asked her with that mischievous smile, as if he knew exactly which buttons to push.
"And you're the artist?" he replied, lowering his gaze to her lips. "I thought we hired people who knew business."
That sentence was enough to declare war.
Every meeting was a staring match, every project a power struggle. And yet… every accidental brush, every double-meaning, every hidden challenge in their conversations created a tangled, dirty, addictive bond.
She noticed it first in the details.
How Lion would stare at her when he thought no one was looking.
How his jaw would clench when someone else got too close.
And how, every time she put on her glasses, her demeanor changed... more controlled, more cerebral, more lethal.