Annabell stood outside the towering glass building of *Yinix Corporation*, staring up in disbelief. What had she gotten herself into?
She was dressed professionally this time — black pencil skirt, white blouse, heels. No more red dress, no smoky lights. Just nerves… and a strange excitement.
The doors opened, and there he was.
Michael Yin.
In a tailored grey suit, sharp jawline, unreadable eyes. He didn't smile. He simply turned and said, "Follow me."
His office was sleek, cold, powerful. Just like him. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city, and the air smelled of success and danger.
"I assume you read the contract?" he asked.
"I did," Annabell replied, placing the signed copy on his desk. "No flirting. No distractions. Full confidentiality. High stakes."
He nodded slowly. "And?"
"I'm in."
Michael's eyes scanned her, lingering just a second too long. "Good."
She sat. He leaned over the desk, close again. "Let's be clear. I don't mix business with pleasure."
Annabell raised an eyebrow. "Then stop looking at me like that."
Silence.
Their eyes locked — tension thick. Something unspoken crackled in the air.
He shifted back in his chair, tone cooler. "You'll be shadowing me. Every meeting. Every move. I need loyalty, not attraction."
"Same," she said, smirking. "So don't get any ideas, Mr. Yin."
He almost smiled.
Almost.
—
Later that day, their first task together was a high-profile board meeting. Michael introduced her simply: "This is Annabell. She works for me now."
The executives barely hid their surprise. But the way she carried herself — sharp questions, calm responses — made them listen.
Michael was impressed.
Too impressed.
He watched her from across the room. The way her lips moved. The way her legs crossed. Her mind. Her presence.
Damn it.
She was dangerous — not because she was seductive…
But because she was becoming the one thing he swore never to need.
Essential.
—