Lahat ng Kabanata ng LEVEL UP MY COLD CEO {MxM}: Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

Gloss POV The system’s voice rang in my head the moment I woke up, soft but firm, like it always was. > “New mission: Accidentally bump into Dream and apologize sincerely.” I groaned and pressed my face into the pillow. Of all things, that was the quest for today? After what happened yesterday, after I’d seen him lose his temper in that ice-cold way that could make an entire department tremble? I wasn’t ready for another encounter. Not yet. But the system never cared about readiness. > “Failure will result in penalty: Decrease in favorability points.” I sighed, dragging myself out of bed. “Yeah, yeah, I get it,” I muttered under my breath. The morning routine went by in a blur, coffee, ironed shirt, quiet bus ride through the city. Everything felt heavier than usual. Maybe because my mind wouldn’t stop replaying that moment yesterday when I stood in his office, caught between his stare and my heartbeat. Dream. He was impossible to read, always so composed, every word measured

Gloss POV The mansion was too quiet after the dinner, the kind of silence that stretches into the bones, heavy with things left unsaid. The night breeze slipped through the open window, brushing over my skin as I sat on the edge of my bed, still wearing the clothes from the evening. The air smelled faintly of wine, roses, and something sharper, the ghost of tension that had lingered since we returned. Dinner had been an ordeal. Dream had driven us home in silence, his grip steady on the steering wheel, his expression unreadable. Even as the city lights danced across his face, he hadn’t said a single word. Not when we stepped inside, not when the butler took our coats, not even when he walked past me without a glance. His steps had been precise, deliberate, controlled, but too controlled, like a man holding back a storm. I sat there replaying every second. The way his jaw tightened when that CEO flirted with me, the way his fingers dug into my waist in front of everyone, the quiet r

Gloss POV The moment Dream’s declaration hit the internet, my world spun off its axis. Overnight, every gossip site, entertainment channel, and social feed turned my name into a trending topic. Gloss, the anonymous intern-turned-“partner” of the nation’s most untouchable CEO. My phone wouldn’t stop vibrating, my inbox overflowed with messages, and my reflection in the mirror felt like a stranger’s. The article headlines varied in tone, some scandalous, some admiring, all intrusive. “The CEO and His Mystery Boyfriend.” “Office Romance or Power Play?” “Love in the Boardroom.” They twisted everything into something it wasn’t. Some clips replayed that moment from the dinner, his hand on my waist, his low voice calling me by name, analyzing every breath as if they could decode our souls through pixels. By morning, I’d stopped trying to explain to anyone that it wasn’t real. Because even I wasn’t sure anymore. Dream hadn’t called since the board meeting, but when he finally appeared in

Dream's POV Ever since that moment in the penthouse, the one where he froze after I asked who he was talking to, something inside me refused to settle. Gloss had always been strange. Too polite sometimes, too quiet other times, with flashes of nervous energy that never quite fit the rhythm of normal behavior. But after that day, it was more than quirks or nerves. It was deliberate. Controlled. Like someone hiding a second life. At first, I thought I was imagining it. The tension of the media scandal, the endless board meetings, the cameras waiting outside my building, all of it could twist perception. But no. The way he flinched when I got too close, the way his eyes darted toward nothing mid-conversation, the way his lips moved when no one else was around, it wasn't a coincidence. It was a secret. I watched him quietly for days. I didn’t say a word, didn’t make it obvious. But every morning, I found myself arriving earlier than usual, just to see how he acted when he thought he

Gloss POV Morning came too quickly. The sunlight streamed through the blinds of the guest suite, slicing across the room in pale lines. My shirt was still damp from last night’s storm. The echo of what had happened, what he had done, burned beneath my skin. Dream had kissed me. Not a polite, fleeting mistake. It was brief, yes, but there had been nothing soft in it. It was as if lightning itself had passed through him and straight into me. Now, sitting at the small table near the window, I couldn’t stop replaying it. Every second. Every heartbeat. The way his hand had gripped my collar, the way he’d pulled back like he was ashamed the moment the thunder stopped. The system had chimed right after, as if mocking me. > “Mission complete. Affection +10.” I didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. When I finally left the guest room, I expected awkwardness, an apology, even. But the moment I saw him in the kitchen, already dressed in a pressed charcoal suit, I realized Dream didn’t do