The first ray of morning sunlight filtered through the window of Anya's room.
She slowly opened her eyes and found herself in her soft bed. A hazy memory lingered—she had been in the car… Zayn's shoulder… his scent.
Her gaze moved to the bedside table. Her glasses were placed there neatly.
A faint smile curved her lips.
She understood. Last night, the arrogant Zayn Yan must have brought her here himself.
Anya rose from the bed and walked toward the wall covered in posters of her favorite Korean stars. This was her daily morning ritual—greeting her imaginary "oppa."
Anya (smiling): "Good Morning, Jungkook! Please don't let today be as scary as yesterday."
Then she began greeting each poster one by one.
"Byeon Woo-seok, just looking at you makes my day start better!"
"Good morning, Lee Min-ho and Cha Eun-woo… I wish my life were as simple as your dramas."
"Lin Yi and Zhu Yan… your smiles alone are enough motivation."
She gently touched Ren Jialing's poster as well. Finally, her gaze lingered again on Byeon Woo-seok. For a moment, she imagined him saying, "Good Morning, Sun-jae-ya."
Her heart felt lighter.
But she knew the moment she stepped out of this room, she would have to face Zayn's authority and Ruan Jian's challenge.
She put on her glasses, saw the world clearly, and told herself, "Don't lose courage, Anya. There's going to be an explosion at the office today."
Zayn was leaning casually against the doorframe, watching everything.
A faint smile rested on his lips.
He could hardly believe that his wife—the wife of one of the most powerful businessmen in the world—spent her mornings talking to posters.
Zayn (to himself): "This girl is completely crazy. Her handsome husband is standing right here, yet she prefers saying 'Good Morning' to those posters."
He shook his head lightly, but there was unmistakable softness in his eyes.
With a quiet, fond smile, he slipped away before Anya could notice him.
A short while later, the atmosphere at the dining table shifted.
Anya had prepared Chinese breakfast with care. They sat facing each other.
Anya (half teasing, half annoyed): "Good Morning, Mr. Wolf—I mean, Zayn."
Zayn took a sip of his coffee. A mischievous glint flashed in his eyes.
Zayn: "Good Morning, Miss Cat… I mean, Mrs. Anya Yan."
Anya froze mid-movement, spoon suspended in the air. Her cheeks flushed faintly.
Anya: "You… you called me a 'cat'? Do I look like one?"
Zayn leaned slightly toward her, his voice deepening.
"Because you are exactly like a cat. As long as everything is fine, you look sweet. But the moment you're angry, you show your claws. The way you argued with me in the office yesterday? That was a wild cat."
Anya pouted, though inside she was relieved his anger had lessened.
Then she remembered.
She had to go to the office.
And Ruan Jian would be waiting.
The moment Anya stepped into the office, the atmosphere felt heavier than the day before.
People were working less and whispering more.
As she approached her desk, Huan Jing rushed toward her and grabbed her hand.
Huan Jing (anxiously): "Anya! Are you okay? Last night you left with President Zayn—I mean—you disappeared. And this morning Ruan Jian has been storming around the entire office like a volcano!"
Before Anya could respond, there was sudden movement near the elevator.
Ruan Jian approached her, his velvet voice smooth, a crooked smile on his face. In his hand was a large bouquet of flowers.
Ruan: "Good Morning, Anya! You left without telling me last night—my heart was broken. These flowers are to ease your fatigue."
He leaned forward, attempting to hand her the bouquet. There was a strange metallic edge in his tone.
Ruan Jian: "Their fragrance will remind you of our college days, Anya. Remember how we used to sit behind the library for hours? You were just as stubborn back then."
The entire office turned to look. Whispers intensified.
"Do they know each other from before?" "He's talking about college days!" "Were they together?"
Anya sharply pulled her hand back.
Her face flushed with anger.
She suddenly felt it—someone watching her from behind the glass of the 50th floor.
Zayn Yan.
Anya (firm, loud): "Enough, Mr. Ruan! That was the past. I've moved on. There is someone else in my life now."
The entire floor fell silent.
Ruan's smile faded slightly. He stepped closer.
"Someone else? Who? That stone-hearted Zayn Yan?"
Anya turned, meeting his eyes directly.
"Yes. My boyfriend."
She deliberately said boyfriend instead of husband.
"He is very dangerous. If he finds out you're creating a scene here, he'll turn this office into a graveyard. He is extremely possessive about me. And I belong only to him."
Scene: Gossip and Fear
It was as if a bomb had exploded among the employees.
"What! Is she talking about the boss?" "Is she insane? The boss is married!" "Maybe she's chasing the boss, and this new manager is her old lover."
Suddenly, Huan Jing stood up like a lioness. She slammed her file onto the desk.
"Enough! If these ridiculous rumors reach the boss's ears, all of you will be unemployed tomorrow. Anya's boyfriend is no ordinary man—he's like a dark hero from a real Chinese novel. Watch your tongues!"
The threat silenced them.
But suspicion lingered in their eyes.
Scene: Zayn's Arrival
Ding.
The elevator doors opened.
Zayn Yan stepped out.
Not a single button of his coat was undone. His stride carried an unmistakable imperial aura. Behind him, Qian followed briskly with a tablet in hand.
His gaze fell directly upon the bouquet now lying on the floor.
He walked slowly toward Anya and Ruan.
With each step, the temperature in the office seemed to drop.
He removed his hand from his pocket and placed it firmly—possessively—on Anya's shoulder.
Zayn (staring at Ruan, voice heavy): "Mr. Ruan, were you hired to deliver flowers during work hours? Or have you grown tired of your job so quickly?"
Ruan clenched his fists.
But he remembered the Dragon King's order—no suspicion yet.
He forced a smile.
"Just checking on an old friend, Mr. Yan."
Zayn pulled Anya closer.
"If you're done checking, return to your cabin. And remember… even looking at something that is 'mine' is not good for your health."
He grabbed Anya's wrist and led her toward his private elevator.
Her heart pounded wildly.
The heavy elevator doors shut.
The outside noise vanished.
In one swift motion, Zayn pressed Anya against the glass wall of the lift. His hands were braced beside her face, caging her completely.
There was mischief in his eyes—yet his voice remained deep and masculine.
"So… your boyfriend is that 'dangerous'? Praising him in front of the entire office?"
Anya lifted her chin stubbornly.
She curled her fingers into a claw shape, imitating a wolf, and growled playfully while staring into his eyes.
"Yes! He's a real wolf. So wild that if anyone touches what belongs to him, he'll devour them raw. So be careful, Mr. Wolf!"
Her innocent, childish wolf act melted his sternness.
He inhaled deeply, swallowed, and leaned even closer. Their faces were so near that their breaths collided.
"If that wolf is so hungry…"
Anya's breathing faltered.
She felt his hand tighten around her waist.
The elevator was ascending—but time felt frozen.
"…why not satisfy the wolf's hunger right here?"
Without giving her another second, Zayn moved his lips toward hers.
Anya closed her eyes.
Her hands instinctively clutched the collar of his shirt.
On the elevator screen, the floor numbers climbed—
45… 48… 50…