The morning sunlight fell in soft streaks through the conference room's floor-to-ceiling windows. Lin Xinyi arranged the presentation slides one last time, adjusting her notes and smoothing the edge of her skirt. She had handled countless clients before—this was routine. Professional, controlled, just business.
"Ms. Lin, Mr. He, allow me to introduce our guest," Director Wang said, stepping aside.
Xinyi's eyes lifted to the newcomer: Liu Haoran. Tall, sharp-featured, and impeccably dressed, he offered a handshake that lingered just slightly longer than necessary.
Xinyi shook his hand politely. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Liu."
Haoran's fingers held hers a moment longer, firm but light, and he gave a small, easy smile that made the room feel a little smaller.
Zhiyuan, standing beside her, narrowed his eyes. He watched the handshake with precise focus, lips pressed into a thin line. Xinyi felt the faint pull of tension from him, subtle but unmistakable. She released Haoran's hand gracefully and stepped back.
"Shall we start the presentation?" Xinyi asked, her voice smooth and steady.
The meeting began, and for the next hour, Haoran complimented her expertise with carefully phrased remarks—never overt, always polite, but with just enough warmth to make the edges of professional distance blur.
"You've clearly prepared this very thoroughly," he said at one point, leaning slightly forward over the table. "I particularly admire your approach to the marketing strategy... very thoughtful, and unexpectedly creative."
Xinyi smiled politely, nodding. "Thank you, Mr. Liu. I'm glad it aligns with your company's vision."
Haoran's gaze lingered for a beat longer than strictly necessary, and Zhiyuan's jaw tightened. Every time Haoran glanced at Xinyi, Zhiyuan felt that quiet, sharp tug of possessiveness, the kind that didn't announce itself, but made him acutely aware of the small shifts in posture, the tilt of her head, the faint curve of her smile.
Haoran's subtle flirtation didn't stop there. Over the next hour, he found small openings to tease lightly:
"Ms. Lin, are you always this precise, or am I just lucky to witness it today?"
Xinyi's lips curved in the faintest smile, polite, amused, but fully controlled. She could feel Zhiyuan's gaze on her like a weight, pressing without words.
A few slides later, Haoran leaned in slightly as he pointed at a chart. "I like how you always notice the little details... most people overlook them. You're... thorough in more ways than one."
Xinyi stiffened imperceptibly, managing her response with professional calm. "Attention to detail is important," she said smoothly, hiding the tiny flutter of warmth in her chest.
Zhiyuan's jaw tightened again, and his eyes didn't leave Haoran for a second. Every casual brush of Haoran's hand over the table, every soft intonation in his words, stoked a quiet, simmering possessiveness.
By mid-afternoon, Haoran had begun leaning a little closer in conversation, lowering his voice to make his comments just intimate enough to be noticed, but never overt.
"Perhaps we could discuss this over coffee sometime," he murmured, eyes flicking to hers. "I find your insights... enlightening."
Zhiyuan's hand twitched at his side. His voice, low and measured, broke through the polite murmur: "Ms. Lin's schedule is full, Mr. Liu. Coffee is fine—outside of work hours—and only if it's purely professional."
Haoran smiled, acknowledging the warning, yet his gaze lingered on Xinyi. "Of course, Mr. He. Professional, always."
Zhiyuan's sharp glance lingered a moment longer on the man before finally turning back to Xinyi. His eyes, however, carried an unspoken question: everything okay?
Xinyi met him with a small, knowing smile. "I've got it handled," she whispered quietly as she walked Haoran to the elevator.
From the corner of the room, Zhiyuan's gaze lingered on Haoran until the elevator doors closed. Only then did he allow himself the tiniest exhale. The office resumed its rhythm, but between him and Xinyi, the air felt charged—a quiet acknowledgment of boundaries, awareness, and unspoken possessiveness.
Xinyi straightened her notes, placing the presentation folder back into her briefcase. "That was... entertaining," she murmured under her breath, just enough for Zhiyuan to hear.
He raised an eyebrow. "Entertaining?"
She gave a faint shrug, light and casual, hiding the quiet thrill of their private connection. "You know... little fires in the office. Keeps things lively."
Zhiyuan's lips tugged into the smallest curve—a mix of amusement and warning. "Lively, yes. But some fires don't belong to anyone but me."
Xinyi's smile softened. She could feel the pulse of his quiet claim, protective and controlled, as they returned to their separate desks. .
The office resumed its rhythm, but the tension followed them like a shadow. Zhiyuan, while outwardly calm, couldn't shake the heat in his chest at the thought of Haoran's subtle touches and prolonged gazes.
Later, at her desk, Xinyi's phone buzzed: a text from Zhiyuan.
Coffee after work. My treat.
She felt her lips curve into a smile. A warning, a claim, and a promise all in one.
Xinyi glanced at Zhiyuan across the office—his posture taut but composed, fingers drumming lightly on his desk. A faint warmth settled in her chest at the thought of later, of the private reclamation of their closeness once the office faded behind them.
From her side of the desk, she drafted a quick reply:
Looking forward to it.
Zhiyuan read it, just a subtle twitch of his lips, before returning to his work. The rest of the day could carry on as usual—but in quiet corners, subtle fires smoldered, ready to flare when the office doors closed.