Lyla had worked events before—banquets, formal dinners, business shows—but nothing prepared her for standing beside South Korea's most intimidating billionaire as his personal assistant.
The International Business Forum was a spectacle of money and power. Crystal lights glittered overhead like floating stars. Lines of photographers formed a wall at the entrance. Executives from every major corporation filled the lobby.
And Min-Jae walked through them like he owned the planet.
Everywhere he passed, people stepped aside.
Everywhere he paused, attention shifted like the world rotated toward him.
Lyla followed one step behind, holding the tablet close to her chest, keeping her expression calm as he'd instructed.
Don't be nervous today. You're with me.
Her heartbeat still responded to those words.
A woman in a white suit approached Min-Jae with a too-wide smile.
"Chairman Han! It's been too long."
He offered a polite nod, but his eyes—not once—left Lyla's direction.
She noticed.
The woman noticed too.
Her smile dimmed."I didn't know you had a new assistant," she said cheerfully, but her eyes dipped to Lyla like she was evaluating a rival.
"This is Lyla," Min-Jae replied, his tone unusually warm. "She's responsible for organizing my entire schedule today."
Lyla bowed politely.
"Oh, impressive," the woman said, though her forced sweetness was obvious. "You must be very talented to earn the chairman's trust."
A subtle insult.
Min-Jae's eyes hardened instantly.
"She's exceptional," he said sharply—too sharply. "Don't underestimate her."
The woman blinked.
Lyla froze.
Min-Jae had just defended her in public.
She wasn't used to that. No one defended her. Not even Junho, even when they were dating. Lyla always stood alone. Always made herself small to avoid trouble. Always swallowed her dignity to avoid provoking her father.
So hearing Min-Jae's voice—firm, protective, almost territorial—sent something warm swirling inside her chest.
The woman retreated quickly.
Min-Jae leaned close, just enough for her to feel his breath on her ear.
"Don't listen to people like her," he murmured. "They're intimidated by what they can't control."
Her pulse tripped.
She whispered, "You don't need to defend me."
"Oh, I know." He stepped slightly in front of her as cameras flashed. "But I wanted to."
The conference began.
Their table was positioned near the front—reserved for top-tier investors. Lyla stood behind him, poised, attentive, absorbing every detail. She passed him documents when needed, whispered time updates, handled questions from staff. Every second mattered, and she performed flawlessly.
Min-Jae noticed.More than once, she caught him watching her with something heavy in his gaze—something that wasn't business.
Something that made her knees weaken.
During a break between panels, he motioned her to follow him to a quieter corridor.
She obeyed.
Once they were alone, he stopped by a tall glass wall overlooking the city.
"You're doing well," he said.
"Thank you, sir."
His eyes trailed down her hands—steady, graceful, precise.
"You're different today."
She blinked. "Different?"
He moved closer, voice lowering. "More confident. More in control."
She bit her lip. "I'm just doing my job."
"No." His gaze hardened with seriousness. "You're doing much more than that."
Her breath hitched. "I don't understand."
"Yes, you do."
Silence stretched, electric.
"Last night," he said slowly, "did it frighten you?"
Her face warmed. "N-no."
He stepped closer.
"Did it… confuse you?"
She looked away. "A little."
He reached out—hesitant, as if fighting himself—and lifted her chin gently until she met his eyes.
"Then I need to ask," he whispered. "Does being near me make you uncomfortable?"
She froze.
Not because he was wrong.
Because he was too right.
Her voice trembled. "No…"His throat moved in a slow, controlled swallow.
"Then tell me the truth," he murmured. "Why do you keep looking at me like that?"
"Like… what?" she whispered.
"Like you're trying not to feel something you shouldn't."
Her lips parted, shock washing through her.
He noticed.
Oh God—he noticed everything.
Her voice nearly failed her. "I don't—"
He stepped even closer, close enough that she breathed his cologne.
"Lyla," he said softly, "I'm not blind."
Her pulse throbbed painfully.
Before she could respond, footsteps echoed down the hall.
Min-Jae instantly stepped back, expression shifting to neutral CEO mode.
Security staff approached.
"Chairman Han, the next panel begins in fifteen minutes."
He nodded once. "We're coming."
He walked forward.
Lyla followed, but her legs trembled.
Because in that quiet hallway, with no one watching—
He had seen right through her.After sessions, interviews, and meetings, evening finally arrived. A private investor dinner awaited them at the top-floor restaurant of the hotel.
As they entered the elevator, he loosened his tie again.
Her thoughts went wild.
Whenever he loosened his tie…
Whenever his collar opened slightly…
Whenever that rare, exhausted, human version of him emerged—
She forgot he was forbidden.
She forgot he was dangerous.
She forgot he was her ex-boyfriend's father.
The elevator doors closed.
Silence filled the space.
His reflection watched her in the mirrored walls.
Her breath fogged lightly in the cool air.
She noticed his fingers tapping against his thigh.
A sign he was restless.
Or… affected.
When the elevator reached the 52nd floor, he spoke without looking at her.
"Stay close to me tonight."
She nodded. "Yes, sir."
"And don't drink anything unless I give permission," he added.
She frowned. "Why?"
"The investors tonight…" His jaw tightened. "Some of them are not men I trust."
Lyla stiffened.
He glanced at her, reading her worry instantly.
"Don't be afraid." He turned to face her fully. "I'll be right beside you."
The elevator chimed.
The doors opened.He offered his hand—not to hold—but palm outward, silently guiding her behind him.
Protecting her.
Her chest tightened.
She followed.
The dinner hall overflowed with luxury—golden chandeliers, velvet seating, and soft piano music playing in the background. Waiters in black suits moved between tables with quiet precision.
A group of older men greeted Min-Jae immediately, all smiles and flattery. Their eyes drifted toward Lyla with curiosity.
"Chairman Han," one man said, "who is this lovely young lady?"
Min-Jae didn't blink. "My personal assistant."
His tone was sharp.
Direct.
Warning.
The man nodded slowly, backing away.
Throughout the dinner, Lyla stood behind Min-Jae's chair, assisting him silently. Presenting documents when he needed them. Taking notes. Pouring water. Tracking requests.
Every time she leaned in, he inhaled subtly.
Every time she spoke softly near his ear, his shoulders stiffened.
He wasn't immune.
Not anymore.
Near the end of the dinner, one investor—a man with too much wine in his system and too much arrogance in his eyes—approached Lyla with a crooked smile.
"You must be new," he said. "I haven't seen you around before."
Before she could step back, Min-Jae rose from his seat without a sound.
"She's not available," he said, his voice cold enough to freeze water.
The investor blinked. "Ah—Chairman Han, I didn't mean—"
"You did." He stepped slightly in front of her. "If you speak to her again, this negotiation ends now."
The man paled.
"Understood," he whispered before stumbling away.
Lyla stared at Min-Jae's back, stunned.
When the last investor left and the waiters began clearing tables, Min-Jae turned to her slowly.
"Come with me."
His voice was low.
Controlled.Dangerous.
She followed him onto the balcony outside—a quiet rooftop space overlooking the glittering city. Cool night air wrapped around them.
He didn't speak for several seconds.
Just stood there, breathing hard as if he had been holding himself together all evening.
Finally, he turned.
"You shouldn't let men like him near you," he said.
Her voice softened. "I wasn't afraid."
"I was."
Her heart stopped.
He stepped closer.
"Lyla," he said quietly, "do you have any idea how hard it is for me to keep my distance?"
Her breath trembled. "Why… do you need to?"
He stared at her, eyes darkening.
"Because I'm starting to want things I shouldn't."
Her lips parted, heat spreading through her.
"But you're my boss," she whispered.
"Yes." His voice brushed her skin. "I am."
"And you're my ex-boyfriend's father."
"Yes," he said again, softer.
"And I'm supposed to seduce you for a deal."
He flinched at that—just slightly.
"You're not seducing me," he said.
Her brows knitted. "But I—"
"You're not," he repeated firmly, stepping close enough that her back touched the balcony rail. "Because I won't let you."
Her heart raced.
"Why not?"
His hand hovered near her waist but didn't touch.
"Because if I ever let you try," he whispered, "you wouldn't be the only one falling."
Her breath caught completely.
The world seemed to tilt.
His eyes dropped to her lips.
Slowly.
Painfully.
As if he was fighting himself every inch.
"Sir…" she whispered.
He closed his eyes for a moment.
Then—
He leaned in.
Not touching her.
Not kissing her.
Just close enough to feel the warmth of his breath against her mouth.
Close enough that one more inch separated desire from danger.
Close enough that she felt what he wasn't saying.Finally, he whispered:
"We should go back to the hotel… now."
Because if they stayed one more second—
He wouldn't walk away.
And neither would she.