Morning sunlight peeked through the elegant curtains, painting soft golden patterns across the spacious guest room. Selina stirred beneath the silky sheets, snuggling deeper into the warmth. For a blissful moment, she forgot where she was. No noise from the busy streets near her apartment, no leaky pipes, no neighbors yelling at their kids.
Just…quiet. Peaceful.
Then—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Selina's eyes fluttered open. Where—? Oh my God. She shot upright, heart pounding. Andrew's apartment. Andrew Vele. Her boss. And she had actually slept here. Alone. In a billionaire CEO's guest room.
A maid's polite voice filtered through the door.
"Miss? Sir asks that you join him for breakfast downstairs."
Breakfast? With him? Panic flared.
Selina hurried into the bathroom and splashed her face with cold water. The mirror confronted her with wild hair and pillow-squished cheeks—hardly CEO-breakfast appropriate. She rushed through her shower, trying to calm her racing heartbeat.
There was just one problem.
Her clothes.
Everything she had worn last night was soaked by the rain. And the wardrobe…full of neatly arranged designer shirts, slacks, and sweaters that definitely belonged to Andrew. All masculine. All expensive.
She swallowed. No choice.
She reached for one of his plain white t-shirts. It smelled clean but faintly of his cologne—earthy, deep, addictive. The hem brushed her mid-thigh, swallowing her small frame. She tugged nervously at it, hoping it wasn't too obvious she had nothing underneath but underwear.
Her face burned.
Just breakfast, Selina. You'll eat, thank him, and leave. Easy.
She was lying to herself, and she knew it.
Taking a steadying breath, she stepped into the hallway and allowed the maid to guide her. Her heart thudded louder with each staircase she descended. The entire penthouse looked like something out of a luxury magazine—towering ceilings, spotless glass, black marble floors polished enough to see her reflection.
Andrew sat at the dining table already eating, newspaper open in one hand, coffee in the other. His sharp jawline, messy morning hair, and the casual black shirt he wore ,unbuttoned near the collar—made him look devastatingly attractive.
He glanced up…
And froze.
His hand paused mid-air—coffee cup lingering inches from his lips. His gaze—dark, slow, and unrestrained—traveled from her bare legs, up the oversized shirt hugging her curves under the soft fabric, to her flushed face.
A muscle in his jaw ticked. He swallowed hard.
Selina instantly looked down, tugging at the shirt again, wishing she could fade into the floor.
"M-morning…" she whispered, voice tiny.
Andrew cleared his throat, setting the cup down carefully—as if any sudden movement might break his control.
"Morning, Selina," he said, slower, deeper than normal.
She sat opposite him, back straight like a stiff statue. Her knees pressed tightly together, hands tucked under the table. Andrew's gaze kept flicking toward the shirt—his shirt—on her body.
He needed a distraction.
"What…would you like to eat?" he asked, voice betraying the tension he felt.
Selina blinked, finally noticing the plates arranged beautifully in front of her—fresh fruit, eggs, warm pastries. The spread was enough to feed three people.
"Oh—I… anything is fine. Thank you."
She kept her eyes on the plate as she ate quietly, trying to ignore the intensity in his stare. Every move she made felt magnified—lifting a fork, sipping water, breathing.
But Andrew…Andrew wasn't even pretending to look away.
He had always thought she was beautiful. He just didn't expect to see her like this—in his home, wearing his clothes, hair still damp from a shower he indirectly provided.
And he definitely didn't expect the fierce urge burning inside him.
The urge to pull her closer.
The urge to keep her here longer.
To kiss the nervous blush on her cheeks.
Selina nibbled her lower lip and his breath hitched. That simple action sent a sharp pulse of desire down his spine. He gripped his fork tighter, reminding himself he wasn't some animal who devoured things he wanted.
"Did you sleep well?" he finally asked, though his voice was strained.
She nodded quickly. "Y-yes. The bed is… so soft. I didn't even wake up once."
A faint smirk tugged at Andrew's lips. "Good."
She didn't notice the heat in his expression. She was too busy trying not to embarrass herself.
Silence stretched—awkward, thick, charged with things unspoken. Selina tried again.
"Thank you…for helping me last night. And for letting me stay. And for the clothes—well, the shirt." Her fingers pinched the hem, cheeks warming again.
Andrew chuckled softly, eyes narrowing in amusement.
"It looks better on you than it ever did on me."
Her fork clattered against the plate.
The air snapped electric.
He realized what he said…and looked away, suddenly clearing his throat again. "I mean It's comfortable, right? That's good. I just meant— Never mind."
Selina bit back a smile. She had never seen him flustered before. The intimidating CEO…flustered because of her.
It felt strangely good.
She took a small breath—finally gathering courage.
"About last night… I still have to pick up my things from the office. I hope your assistant didn't get in trouble because of me."
Andrew's eyes softened.
"It wasn't your fault. And you'll help me pick out a punishment if needed," he teased lightly.
Her eyes widened. "I—I don't think punishment is necessary—"
He laughed quietly. A sound that shouldn't have made her heart skip.
When breakfast ended, the maid came to clear the table. Andrew stood, and Selina followed.
"We are going to the Office together," he said. . You can go and change ."
"O-okay…" she said, voice small.
But inside, she wondered—Why was he being so kind to her? Why did he look at her like that? Why did she want him to keep looking?
She excused herself back to the guest room, closing the door behind her.
Then she leaned against it, hands clasped over her racing heart.
Her life was slowly, dangerously changing.
And she wasn't sure whether to run…
Or fall