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Playing the Professional Act

Penulis: Keodiniah
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-04-27 22:31:00

Emma’s POV

By day, I was ice.

Unshakable. Unreadable. Untouchable.

In the boardroom, I was my father’s daughter—composed, intelligent, dressed in tailored perfection and speaking with the same cutthroat precision he raised me with. I didn’t glance at Killian. I didn’t smile. I barely acknowledged his existence unless absolutely necessary.

He returned the favor.

We’d sit across from each other in meetings, pretending there was nothing between us. No memories of my thighs around his waist. No evidence of his voice whispering filthy promises against my skin.

We played the perfect coworkers.

But behind closed doors? That was a different story.

It was always a different story.

Killian’s POV

I never thought acting like I didn’t know her would be this hard.

It wasn’t just the sex it was her scent that lingered on my shirt after she left my office. It was the knowing look in her eyes when someo
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  • Ruthless Temptation    Killian’s Self-Doubt

    Killian’s POVI hated the way the walls of her childhood home made me feel. Too tall. Too rough around the edges. Like a cracked stone among polished marble. The Lancaster estate was the kind of place I used to walk past as a kid and wonder what kind of people lived behind the wrought-iron gates. Now, I was walking inside with polished shoes, wearing a custom-fitted suit Emma had insisted I get.And yet—I still felt like an impostor.I tried to smile as Emma introduced me to her extended family during her cousin’s engagement party, but the greetings were stiff, the handshakes too quick. Most looked at me like they were trying to place a face they’d only heard about in whispers. Others didn’t even hide their disappointment.“He’s handsome,” one older aunt whispered to another, “but you can tell he’s not one of us.”That one hit harder than it should’ve. Not one of us.No matter what suit I wore or title I held, I would always be less in their eyes. T

  • Ruthless Temptation   The High Society Problem

    Emma’s POV I regretted coming the moment we stepped into the ballroom. It wasn’t the dress—I looked stunning in it, a sleek off-shoulder black gown that clung to every curve and shimmered subtly with every step I took. It hugged my body like it had been stitched onto my skin, elegant but fierce, the kind of dress that made statements without a word. It wasn’t Killian—he stood tall beside me, devastatingly handsome in a tailored tux, his jaw sharp, his presence magnetic. His hand rested gently at the small of my back, grounding me, anchoring me. No, it was them. The people I’d grown up around. My father’s circle. The men in designer suits who believed status could be inherited and the women who wore diamonds like armor and smiled with venom behind their painted lips. They all turned to stare the moment we walked in. One of the women whispered into her champagne flute like it was a microphone for gossip. Another rai

  • Ruthless Temptation   A Family Battle

    Emma’s POV “He’s not good enough for you, Emma. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again.” My father’s voice echoed through the marble-floored study of our estate, his words sharp and final like the slam of a judge’s gavel. The fire crackled behind him, casting long shadows on the walls as if even the room disapproved of what I’d become.I stood across from him, arms folded tightly against my chest, trying to keep my face neutral even as rage simmered just below the surface. It wasn’t the first time we’d had this fight, and it wouldn’t be the last—but something about this evening made it feel final. Like a choice had to be made.“Then maybe your definition of ‘good enough’ is what’s broken,” I replied coldly, my voice steady despite the way my hands trembled with restraint.His eyes narrowed. “He’s not one of us. You know that. You were raised for more than this… dalliance.”I clenched my jaw, trying not to scream. “He’s better t

  • Ruthless Temptation    Struggles of Going Public

    Killian’s POV Dating Emma Weston in secret had been easy. Well, maybe not easy—there had been the sneaking around, the whispered rendezvous, the constant need to stay out of sight—but in a twisted way, that had been simpler. There was something intoxicating about stolen moments, breathless kisses behind locked doors, and the adrenaline rush of nearly getting caught. Now that we were out in the open, everything was complicated. Every step felt calculated. Every smile, every word had to be curated and carefully placed. No more hiding. No more pretending we didn’t know each other outside of boardrooms and elevators. Now, we were a brand. A spectacle. A source of gossip in offices and articles in sleek society pages. Dinner reservations were suddenly made under her name. Networking events came with whispered conversations and glances that lingered too long on

  • Ruthless Temptation   Office Gossip Erupts

    Killian’s POV Monday mornings were never quiet at Weston Enterprises, but this one felt like walking into a war zone—only instead of bullets, there were whispers. Whispers sharp enough to wound. My name floated between cubicles like smoke—soft, curling, impossible to pin down but heavy in the air. “So it’s true?” “He’s with Emma Weston?” “How long’s it been going on?” I kept my head down as I crossed the open floor, ignoring the sideways glances, the curious smirks, the people pretending to work while they watched me. The silence didn’t help—it made the whispers louder. I could feel them cling to my skin, feel the weight of each stare digging into my back like knives. No one said anything to my face. But they didn’t have to. I’d seen the photos. It had broken over the weekend—spilled out of some socialite’s

  • Ruthless Temptation   Making It Official

    Emma’s POV The evening of the corporate gala had finally arrived, and as I stood before the mirror adjusting the delicate clasp of my necklace, a mixture of anticipation and anxiety swirled within me. Killian’s presence behind me was both reassuring and grounding; his hands rested gently on my waist, his touch a silent promise of support. “Are you absolutely certain about this?” he inquired softly, his breath warm against the nape of my neck. I met his gaze in the mirror, noting the concern etched in his deep blue eyes. “Not entirely,” I confessed with a wry smile. “But what I am certain of is us. I’m tired of the shadows, of stolen moments and hidden glances. Tonight, we step into the light together.” His fingers tightened slightly, conveying understanding and solidarity. “If at any point it becomes overwhelming, we can leave. This is about us, no one else.” I turned to face him fully, placing a hand over hi

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