“All right, Noira.” Noah gazed at the woman in his lap. Noira’s usually pale cheeks were now flushed red. Those cold eyes were clouded with lust. “You’re beautiful when you’re not glaring at your employees.”
“Shut up and keep going,” Noira ordered, though her voice now trembled with desire.
An hour passed in a whirlwind of searing sensations atop the luxurious sofa. When the living room fell silent once more, the only sound was their ragged breathing.
Noira rested her head against Noah’s bare chest. The digits in Noah’s bank account might have increased, but his mind had suddenly become a mess.
“What time is it?” Noira asked softly, her voice flat again even though her body still felt warm.
Noah glanced at the wall clock above the television. “12:45.”
Noira immediately went still. She slowly pushed Noah away, then stood and deftly smoothed out her wrinkled dress.
“My meeting is in fifteen minutes.” Noira picked up her hair tie and pulled her long hair back into its original neat bun. Within seconds, the CEO’s cold, untouchable aura had fully returned.
Noah blinked at the drastic transformation. “That fast? No post-event cuddling session?”
“It’s not in the contract,” Noira replied coldly as she slipped her stilettos back on. “The bathroom is on the left. You can clean yourself up. Fresh clothes have been prepared in the closet.”
“You’re seriously professional, Noira,” Noah muttered as he picked up his shirt from the floor. “It feels like I just finished a vegetable transaction.”
Noira stopped in front of the study door. She turned slightly and looked at Noah from the corner of her eye.
“Four hundred million rupiah has just been transferred to your account. Check your phone.”
Noah took his phone from his pants pocket. A banking notification came in. Credit: Rp400,000,000.00.
“Whoa…” Noah let out a soft whistle. “So you weren’t kidding.”
“I never joke about money, Noah. And remember rule number one.”
“What is it?”
“Never expect anything more than this. See you tomorrow night at nine.”
Bang.
The door to Noira’s study slammed shut. Noah was alone in the vast, silent living room. He stared at his phone screen, then at the locked teak door.
“Three months…” Noah smiled faintly, touching his chest, which was still pounding. “Crazy. These are going to be the most dangerous three months of my life.”
Mornings at the Authum Holdings headquarters always smelled of expensive espresso, pine floor cleaner, and employee fear.
Noira Authum strode through the main lobby with the elegance of a war queen. Her dark-gray double-breasted blazer, fitted pencil skirt, and five-centimeter black stilettos created a rhythm of fear down the corridor. Every staff member bowed respectfully and stepped aside without daring to look into her eyes for too long.
Yet this morning, walking precisely half a meter behind the CEO was a man in a black suit whose appearance was… slightly below company standards.
His tie was crooked by half a centimeter. His hair was slightly wavy and tousled in an effortlessly casual style, and instead of carrying a refined leather briefcase, he clutched a tumbler covered in cute cartoon stickers along with a plastic bag of cubit cakes.
“Noah,” Noira whispered without looking back, her voice quiet but piercing. “Walk straight and look ahead. Don’t wave at the receptionist.”
Noah Nabastala—who had just lowered his hand from the air—cleared his throat awkwardly.
“I’m just being friendly, Ms. CEO. Saying good morning is basic human courtesy,” Noah whispered from behind Noira’s shoulder.</span>