Semua Bab The C.E.O's Weakness : Bab 1 - Bab 6

The bass thumped through the walls like a second heartbeat, the kind that never let you forget you were alive—even when you wished you could forget. I leaned against the polished black bar, polishing the same glass for the third time, watching the crowd pulse under the spinning disco ball. Neon green, electric blue, blood-red colors slicing through the haze of smoke and perfume.This was my kingdom. Or my cage. Either way, it paid the bills.My name is Asher. Twenty-four years old, and the only thing standing between my family and the street. 11 years ago, everything shattered. One night my father came home from his late shift at the warehouse, kissed my mother on the forehead, rubbed Nathan's hair and told me I was the man of the house now. He never made it to his bed. A single bullet to the back of the head in the alley behind our building, assassins, the police called it. No witnesses, no motive, just another unsolved file in a city that didn’t care about men like us. The company

The next morning felt dull and gray, like the city had forgotten to turn the lights back on. Customers drifted through the bar in sluggish waves—Wall Street guys in rumpled suits grabbing espresso shots, tourists fighting hangovers with Bloody Marys, regulars who treated the stools like their second living room. My head was a fog, thoughts looping on repeat. And him, the stranger, hogging every corner of my brain. His hands gripping my waist like he owned it. Hot breath ghosting my neck. The way those eyes claimed me without a single word.“Table 4—two old fashioneds and that ridiculous espresso martini thing,” Othello called from the other end of the counter, already shaking something like it owed him money.I blinked hard. I’d been staring at the same knot in the wood for God knows how long. “Shit—yeah. On it.”He slid over while I fumbled the jigger. Leaned in close, voice low and teasing. “Yo, Ash. You alive in there, or did last night actually kill you?”“Yeah. Fine. Just… head

I stayed up until half past three, laptop glowing in the dark, tabs open to infrastructure financing, Voss Enterprises acquisitions, and tomorrow’s ministers. Notepad crammed with unfamiliar terms: tax holiday extensions, environmental compliance timelines.I wasn’t going into Kai Voss’s world unprepared. Not as some decorative accessory. Not after the night he’d slid that envelope across the hotel suite table and watched me fold.I shut the laptop and stared into the dark, pulse loud in my ears.I arrived at his penthouse at 5:30. Instructions said six. I knew. I’d memorized them. But insomnia had me up since four, and my body moved before reason could catch up.I rang the bell. Mistake.The door opened.Kai stood there, hair tousled, black robe hanging open—nothing underneath. The fabric parted just enough to reveal clean, disciplined muscle, the knot low on his hip like a deliberate taunt. My breath hitched. His chest rose and fell with calm breath.I cataloged the doorframe, the p