The professional victory of the press conference rang hollow in the echoing quiet of Ha-ru's penthouse. The city glittered below, a cold constellation of success that now felt meaningless. He replayed the moment in the green room on a loop: the brush of skin, the electric shock of connection, the stark panic in Jin-woo's storm-grey eyes before he'd fled.
Chairman. He'd reverted to the title. A shield. A moat.
Ha-ru understood. The power imbalance between them wasn't just financial; it was cavernous. He held Jin-woo's career, his fragile stability, his hard-won respect, in his hands. To act on the dizzying, unwelcome attraction coursing through him wouldn't be a romance. It would be a form of coercion, a betrayal of the trust he'd sworn to uphold. He was his father's son; he would not become the kind of man who took what he wanted simply because he could.
He resolved to create distance. Professional, impeccable distance.
It proved impossible.
