Andrew Vele stood in the luxurious living room of his penthouse-style mansion, his back straight, expression carved from stone. The morning sunlight streamed through the grand windows, casting reflections on the glossy marble floor. A fresh suit lay perfectly on his sharp frame charcoal-gray, tailored like a second skin ,his tie already tightened with military precision.
He checked his wristwatch again.
8:17 AM.
Two minutes late.
His jaw flexed as he exhaled slowly. Punctuality was everything to him. Especially for an employee as… chaotic as Selina Whyte. He had already been too lenient by letting her stay the night and even more generous by having that dress delivered to the guest room.
A soft click of heels on marble cut through his thoughts.
Andrew's gaze lifted… and time froze.
Descending the elegant staircase was Selina Whyte — a woman he barely recognized at first glance. The dress clung to her body in the most maddening way: black satin fitted to her curves, hugging her waist, soft fabric falling in smooth lines around her thighs. The neckline wasn't too bold, but just enough to show the delicate collarbones his eyes seemed glued to.
Her hair, freshly washed, bounced lightly around her shoulders. She had no makeup — yet she looked breathtaking. A shy beauty. A natural elegance she didn't even know she had.
Andrew's throat tightened.
Perfect… It fits her perfectly.
He had known the dress was expensive — custom-made from a designer brand that normal staff would faint over the price of — but on her, it became art. For a brief second, Andrew forgot how to breathe.
Selina, meanwhile, seemed unaware of the chaos she caused.
She held her purse awkwardly against her chest, clinging to it like a shield. Her cheeks were already pink, either from rushing or from the weight of her boss's burning stare. She carefully focused on the stairs, determined not to embarrass herself. She refused to look up because if she did, she would see his eyes, those sharp silver eyes that seemed to strip her of every layer of confidence she had left.
Don't fall. Don't fall. Don't fall…
Her heart pounded loudly, maybe he could even hear it. She swallowed hard, trying to keep calm, trying not to tremble—
But her heel betrayed her.
A tiny misstep.
A slip.
A gasp.
Her purse flew from her hand. Her body leaned forward, gravity eager to claim her.
"Ah—!"
Selina squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for a cold, humiliating impact.
But it never came.
A strong arm circled her waist. Another hand gripped her wrist firmly, halting her fall in one swift, controlled motion.
Selina's breath hitched.
She wasn't falling.
She wasn't hurt.
She wasn't on the ground.
Instead…
She was in his arms.
Andrew held her tightly pressed against him, his hand splayed against the small of her back, his other steadying her wrist secure, protective, dominant. He looked down at her, eyes darkened, breath drawn just slightly sharper than usual.
Their faces were dangerously close.
Selina's eyelashes fluttered as she dared to open her eyes… and immediately regretted it. Because the first thing she saw the first thing she fell into were his storm-gray eyes. Cold usually… but right now, they were blazing.
Her heart almost exploded.
"S-Sir…" she whispered, voice weak and trembling. "I— I'm sorry. I—"
"Careful," he murmured, voice deeper than she had ever heard before. "You could've gotten hurt."
There was no anger in his tone. Just something intense… and unreadable.
His grip didn't loosen. Not even a little.
Selina could feel her face turning red not from embarrassment now, but from something she didn't want to name. His scent, fresh, rich, and expensive surrounded her, sending heat crawling across her skin. Every inch of her body was aware of him. Too aware.
Why wasn't he letting go?
Why was he holding her like this?
Andrew, on the other hand, wasn't doing much better internally.
Why does she feel so… small in my arms? So warm? Why am I… unwilling to let go?
It made no sense. She was his employee. His secretary. Nothing more.
He should release her immediately.
But he didn't.
His fingers twitched slightly against her waist, and Selina's breath caught. She stared at him with wide, nervous eyes, her lips parted as if she wanted to speak but words failed her. The soft strands of her hair brushed his cheek. His hand tightened just a fraction—
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
A full three seconds passed.
Then five.
Then more.
Neither moved.
Silence filled the grand living room thick, heavy, laced with something neither wanted to acknowledge out loud.
Selina finally lowered her gaze in panic, her blush spreading down her neck.
"I… I didn't mean to slip," she stammered, barely audible.
Andrew leaned slightly too close , his breath whispering against the top of her ear.
"I know," he replied slowly. "Just… don't do it again."
Her heart flipped.
She nodded quickly, unable to form a proper response. But even with her response accepted…
He still didn't let go.
Instead, his eyes drifted briefly, sinfully to her lips before forcing themselves back up. A war happened in his head, one she couldn't see, but one she definitely felt in the tension gripping the air.
Selina's knees felt weak not from the fall , but from him.
"Mr. Vele…?" she whispered shakily. "You're… still holding me."
Andrew blinked like he'd forgotten what his hands were doing. His jaw tightened. Slowly, reluctantly, he loosened his grip but one hand remained at her waist a heartbeat longer, as though his body refused to obey reason.
He finally helped her stand upright, though she still felt wobbly.
Their eyes locked for a moment longer, electricity flickered between them, sharp enough to burn.
Andrew spoke first, low and steady:
"Next time… hold onto the railing."
Selina nodded again , anything to break this charged atmosphere , her legs barely steady beneath her.
But inside…
They were both shaken.