เข้าสู่ระบบClare leaned in a little closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that barely carried past them. “Apparently, Knox has been bragging about taking your secretary out for a drink tonight. Something about celebrating,” she said with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. They both stepped into the elevator. Marius felt a sharp, unexpected jolt at the mention of Knox. He kept his expression neutral, but his jaw tightened almost imperceptibly as the elevator doors slid shut,
Clare leaned in a little closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that barely carried past them. “Apparently, Knox has been bragging about taking your secretary out for a drink tonight. Something about celebrating,” she said with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. They both stepped into the elevator. Marius felt a sharp, unexpected jolt at the mention of Knox. He kept his expression neutral, but his jaw tightened almost imperceptibly as the elevator doors slid shut, sealing them into the small, mirrored space. “Knox?” he repeated, his voice flat. “He is always celebrating something. Probably just another overpriced bottle of Scotch and a lecture on draping.” Clara laughed, a bright, airy sound that echoed against the metallic walls. She pressed herself slightly closer to him as the elevator ascended, his shoulder brushing his arm. “No, no. this is different,” she insisted, her green eyes gleaming with interest. “Wor
“Wait so do you want to meet in the breakroom like colleges or go somewhere else?” Tera asked genuinely confused. Marius passed at the bottom of the stairs, turning back to look at her with an expression that was half-amused, half-fond. He let out a short laugh at her genuine confusion. “Both,” he said, holding up two fingers. “We will meet in the breakroom first– keep up appearances, grab out coffees like two perfectly normal, professional employees who definitely are not planning lunch together.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice so it would not carry up the stairwell. “And then we will sneak out. there is a small café three blocks away. That is where we will actually sit down and be us.” He checked his phone briefly before tucking it back into his blazer pocket. “You have a meeting this morning, do you not? With the design team?”“Yeah, I do. Someone from Knox’s department,” Tera
After eating the perfect pancakes, Marius and Tera got dressed for work. Half an hour later they both stood in Tera’s living room. Marius was wearing a smart, sophisticated formal-casual ensemble centred around a deep burgundy waistcoat with a subtle, smooth finish. The waistcoat has a classic V-shaped neckline, a straight front and four black buttons running down the centre. There are two horizontal welt-style pockets near the lower front, with another subtle chest pocket on the upper right side. Underneath is a black long-sleeved dress shirt that has a traditional collar and fitted sleeves, with black cuffs buttoned neatly around his waist. He is wearing a black necktie decorated with a small white and grey geometric patterns that consists of tiny squares and rectangular shapes scattered across the tie, which is tucked neatly beneath the waistcoat’s V-neck. His trousers are solid black, matching the shirt and appear tailored and relatively slim, continuing the sleep ap
Harper closes Oliver’s office door behind her. “I might have given him some tips,” she said softly. “Why?” Oliver’s icy blue eyes narrow slightly as she closes the door. The sound of the latch clicking shut feels like a permission slip to drop the professional act, just for a moment. “Why?” he repeats, his voice dropping an octave. He steps away from the mahogany desk, closing the distance between them in two measure strides. “Because he mentioned you two were celebrating tonight night. Because he mentioned you were ‘very productive’.” He stops just inches from her, close enough that she can see the tension in his jaw, the dark flicker of possessiveness in his icy blue eyes that he usually keeps under lock and key.“He was smirking, Harper. Smirking like he knew something I did not.” Oliver’s hand reaches out, not to touch her face this time, but to land on the surface of his office door
Oliver swipes to the second drawing. “The lighting in the second draft is washed out. fix it.” Knox does not miss the deflection. He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest, a smug grin spreading across his face. “You are dodgin’, Williams. That’s a verra unproductive way tae handle a direct question.” Knox taps his fingers against his chin, studying Oliver’s composed face with predatory amusement. “I am not dodging anything,” Oliver says, his voice dropping into that dangerous low register he uses when he is losing patience. “I am managing a meeting. Something you seem to be struggling with.” Knox raises his hands in mock surrender, but the grin does not fade. “Right, right. Managing. Very professional o’ ye.” He leans in closer, lowering his voice just enough to make the conversation feel illicit in the open office. “Ye ken, for someone so obsessed wi’ control, ye’re actin&rs
Oliver leans back in his chair, tapping his pen against the edge of his mahogany desk in a rhythmic measured way. His mind is already working through the implications of that meeting. “Tell them I can do two o’clock,” he says, his tone leaving no room for negotiations. “But I need the briefing notes on their previous campaign history first. Have Harper sent them to my inbox by noon.” As Stells nods and turns to leave, his icy blue eyes shift toward the door.Oliver finished his coffee and began preparing for his conference calls. At nine AM sharp, his laptop displaying a grid of faces belonging to the company’s fabric distributors. The call began with a brief introduction before Oliver outlined ThreadForms’ upcoming seasonal collection and the increased demand the company was anticipating. He emphasized that maintaining ThreadForms’ reputation for quality was more important than simply securing the lowest prices. The distributor
“Housekeeping might throw it all away.” Harper said softly, looking down at the papers on the floor. “Organizing your office and paperwork is my job,” she adds. Oliver’s expression softened slightly at her insistence; a hint of admiration mixed with the frustration i
“That is it,” Oliver encouraged against her breast, his voice muffled by the flesh pressed against his lips. “Show me how much you want this.” His free hand moved to cup her other breast, kneading gently while his mouth worked relentlessly on the first. The contrast betwee
Oliver’s eyes darkened with satisfaction at her admission, a low growl of approval rumbling in his chest. The confession that her nervousness was due to attraction, not fear, sent a wave of possessive heat through him. “Attractive?” he repeated, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You think
Oliver’s eyes widened slightly at her blunt observation, a low chuckle escaping his lips. The sound was rich and unexpected, breaking the usual seriousness, he carried around the office. “In a hurry,” he repeated, his voice laced with amusement. “You are saying my designers need to consider emergen







