By the time training was done, Liam was utterly spent—his muscles burned, his breath came in ragged gasps, and sweat clung to his skin like a second layer. Every inch of him pulsed with exhaustion, his body thrumming from the sheer intensity of his morning regimen.
A cold shower was no longer just a necessity—it was salvation.
Stepping into the bathroom, he peeled off his damp clothes, the fabric clinging stubbornly before finally sliding down his sculpted frame. Cool air kissed his overheated skin, sending a delicious shiver down his spine. He turned the knob, and in an instant, icy water cascaded over him, shocking his senses, dragging a low groan from his throat.
It was bliss.
The chill coursed over his body, washing away the sticky remnants of sweat, and soothing the tension coiled deep in his muscles. He braced his hands against the cool tile, head tilting forward, strands of dark hair plastered against his forehead. Droplets traced lazy paths down his chiseled chest, lower, lower—before vanishing in the rivulets swirling at his feet.
Another morning. Another battle of endurance.
Between the grueling training and dealing with Lena's infuriating antics, Liam had been pushed to his limits. That woman had a way of getting under his skin—testing his patience.
But here, under the steady rush of water, he could finally let go. Let the heat melt away, let the frustration bleed out with every heavy exhale.
A slow smirk curved his lips.
At least for now… he could finally relax.
After the shower, Liam strode into the dining hall, fully dressed, the lingering chill of his shower clinging to his skin like a ghost of pleasure. But the real indulgence was waiting for him.
Aiko.
She stood by the table, bathed in the soft glow of the morning sun. But there was nothing innocent about the way she looked.
Her so-called uniform was an obscene sin, a scandal of fabric that barely clung to her lush, sinful curves.
The tight, sheer top struggled to contain her, the thin fabric doing nothing to hide what lay beneath. The neckline plunged deep, teasing far more than it covered, and every shift of her body made it seem like the delicate material might give up entirely.
Her skirt?
The shamefully tiny piece of cloth clung to her hips, riding so dangerously high that a single misstep would reveal everything. And the back? Practically nonexistent. Just a thin strip of fabric, barely covering the sinful swell of her perfect rear.
When she turned to him, the soft smile on her lips was sweet, knowing—dangerous.
"Good morning, Master Liam," She murmured, dipping into a slight bow. Her voice was velvet, laced with something dangerously close to devotion.
Liam slid into his seat, exhaling slowly, his eyes dark with intent as they lingered on Aiko.
A second too long. Maybe two.
"If you weren't so damn good at cooking," He murmured, his voice low, deep, dripping with sin, "I'd marry you."
Aiko's breath hitched. Not in shock—no, in anticipation. Her fingers trembled for just a fraction of a second before she recovered, her lips curling into a knowing smirk as she turned toward him.
"Such bold words before breakfast, Master?" She teased, her voice honeyed, sultry, teasing him with its softness.
Liam smirked, reaching for his utensils—slowly, deliberately—letting his fingers graze the table in a way that made her eyes flicker downward, just for a moment.
"Gotta keep you on your toes, Aiko."
And then—the first bite.
It was just Pure bliss.
Flavors exploded on his tongue, perfectly balanced, the warmth spreading through him like a lover's caress. He let out a slow, deep hum, his head tipping back slightly, his throat exposed as he savored the moment.
"Fuck," He muttered, eyes fluttering open, locking onto hers. "Aiko, you're spoiling me."
Her lips parted, and she swallowed, hard.
"That's my job," She whispered, her voice softer now, breathier.
Liam set his fork down, his gaze never leaving her. He was watching her, measuring her with amusement and hunger.
"And you do it too well."
Her cheeks burned, but it wasn't embarrassment—it was anticipation, expectation. She shifted, smoothing the edge of her impossibly short uniform, but the movement only drew his attention lower.
"Would you like another serving?" She asked, but her voice betrayed her.
Liam's smirk deepened. "Only if you feed me."
Aiko's fingers curled around the edge of the tray, knuckles white. Her lips parted—no breath, no words, just heat.
"Liam…" She exhaled, her voice barely above a whisper, trembling on the edge of something forbidden. Her porcelain skin turned the most beautiful shade of red, and she looked away—not out of rejection, but because she was drowning in it.
"Anything for you," She finally breathed, eyes flicking back to his—burning, waiting.
Liam chuckled, the sound low, deep, sinful, leaning back, watching her like a predator who already knew the outcome of the hunt.
"Relax, Aiko," He murmured, his voice silken, teasing, filled with dark amusement. "You're too easy to tease."
She sighed, shaking her head, but that soft, secret smile never left her lips.
Because she knew that she loved it. She loved him more than anything... how he made her heart flutter with such grace.
----
Once breakfast was done, Liam grabbed his coat, checking his watch with a smirk. The sun had fully risen, bathing the city in a golden glow.
The world was awake and so was he.
He was not just a businessman but also a warrior.
A man who was balancing between power, pleasure, and the weight of responsibility.
As he stepped outside and toward his car, the smirk never faded.
His life was never dull.
Not when Lena was out there—relentless, insatiable, always pushing his patience, always hunting for pleasure. She craved the heat of his touch, the intoxicating thrill of surrendering to his dominance.
She wanted to feel him, to have his marks on her skin, proof that she was his to break, his to mold, his to ruin—again and again.
Not when Aiko kept tempting him with her quiet, sinful perfection. She played the role of the demure, obedient one so well—until night fell. Then, she was all his. Her body, her soul, her trembling gasps as she whispered his name like a prayer.
She wanted him to claim her, to devour her, to own her in ways that left her utterly breathless. And he did.
Not when he had an empire to command—a world where power was currency, where every deal, every decision, every subtle flex of his influence sent ripples through the lives of countless others.
He was at the top, and he intended to stay there.
And the day had only just begun.
Liam smirked, stepping into his car, fingers tapping against the wheel.
Power. Pleasure. Control.
Life was a dangerous, exhilarating game for him.
And he was the one holding all the cards.
---- ✦ ✦ ✦ ----
Spoilers for the next three chapters!
Chapter 86: Restless Ambitions
Chapter 87: Shadows & Temptations
Chapter 88: Secretary's Skill
--- ✦ ✦ ✦ ---
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