The Wenford Corporation headquarters towered over the city, a symbol of power, success, and untouchable authority. The massive glass panels reflected the world below, an impenetrable fortress where only the elite could step inside. And at the very top floor, seated behind a sleek mahogany desk, was the man who ran it all—Ethan Wen.

Ethan Wen, CEO, industry leader, and ruthless businessman, was not known for his patience. He was not known for his kindness, nor for his willingness to engage in trivial conversations. He was, however, known for winning—and that was the only thing that mattered.

So when he glanced at the document in his hands, his sharp brown eyes narrowed in distaste.

"This is a joke, right?"

Across from him, standing with an air of quiet composure, was Noah Reid, his secretary.

Noah was always poised, always polished. His platinum blond hair was neatly styled, his crisp navy-blue suit tailored to perfection. Behind his thin-rimmed glasses, sharp blue eyes watched the CEO with unshaken professionalism.

Noah had worked under Ethan Wen for over a year now, which meant he had long since mastered the art of patience.

"The Diversity and Inclusion Initiative," Noah clarified, glancing at the document Ethan had tossed onto the desk. "It was approved at the last shareholders’ meeting."

Ethan scoffed, leaning back in his chair with a look of annoyance. "Who the hell approved this?"

"You did, sir," Noah said smoothly.

Ethan blinked. "Excuse me?"

Noah kept his expression neutral. "During the meeting last month, you said, and I quote, ‘If it’ll shut them up, fine.’"

Ethan frowned. "I don’t remember that."

"You were reviewing financial reports at the time," Noah supplied helpfully. "I believe you were more focused on the declining projections from our overseas division."

Ethan exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "Christ. I must’ve not been paying attention."

"That does seem to be a recurring theme, sir," Noah murmured under his breath.

Ethan’s sharp eyes snapped up. "What was that?"

"Nothing," Noah said smoothly, offering the slightest curve of a smile.

Ethan scowled, picking up the document again. "This is a business, Noah. Not some damn activist group. We don’t need this."

Noah adjusted his glasses. "On the contrary, sir. Studies show that companies with strong diversity and inclusion policies see increased productivity and higher employee satisfaction. It’s not just about social responsibility—it’s about financial performance."

Ethan raised a brow. "Oh? And what study told you that?"

"McKinsey & Company’s latest corporate analysis. They report that companies with diverse leadership teams are 25% more profitable than those without."

Ethan tapped his fingers against the desk, considering him. "You sure know a lot about this."

"It’s my job to be well-informed, sir."

Ethan scoffed. "Sounds personal."

Noah’s smile didn’t waver. "Everything in business is personal, sir. One way or another."

There was a flicker of something in Ethan’s gaze—annoyance, perhaps, or mild intrigue. But the moment passed quickly.

"Either way," Ethan said, waving the document dismissively, "I don’t want a bunch of distractions in my company. As long as this initiative doesn’t interfere with actual work, I don’t care what they do."

Noah’s stomach clenched, but he kept his voice steady. "Of course, sir."

"Good." Ethan reached for another file, already moving on from the conversation as if it had never happened.

But Noah?

Noah wasn’t going to let this go.

Not because he needed Ethan Wen’s approval. No, he had long since abandoned the need for validation from men like him.

But change—real, tangible change—was worth fighting for.

And Ethan Wen, whether he realized it or not, was going to be part of that change.

One step at a time.

One Week Later

Noah knew better than to confront Ethan directly. A man like Ethan Wen wouldn’t change his mind just because someone told him to.

But results?

Results were something Ethan Wen couldn’t ignore.

Noah began working quietly behind the scenes.

He redesigned the hiring process, subtly prioritizing more diverse candidates without making it obvious. He restructured leadership training programs, pairing younger employees with senior executives to foster mentorship. And when the company’s internal newsletter highlighted outstanding employee achievements, Noah made sure that LGBTQ+ employees were subtly featured—not as tokens, but as high-performing, valuable assets to the company.

He was careful. Very careful.

He knew exactly how to present things in a way that Ethan wouldn’t immediately reject.

And slowly, Ethan started to notice.

It started with small things.

One afternoon, Ethan frowned while reading a report. "Since when did our marketing team get this good?"

Noah, standing beside him, replied effortlessly. "Since we promoted Oliver Grant to lead strategist last quarter."

Ethan glanced at him. "Wasn’t he the one with the—ah, never mind."

Noah’s lips twitched. Progress.

Then, a few days later, Ethan attended an executive meeting where one of the newly promoted employees—an openly gay software engineer—delivered an impressive presentation.

Ethan didn’t say anything at the time.

But later, in the elevator, he muttered, "That guy was sharp. We need more people like him."

Noah simply smiled. "I agree, sir."

Step by step. Inch by inch. Ethan Wen was changing.

And he didn’t even realize it.

But there was something Noah hadn’t accounted for.

Something unexpected.

Ethan Wen was starting to notice him, too.

It began subtly.

Ethan, who was usually dismissive of secretaries, started actually listening to Noah’s reports. He started asking for his opinion—not just on schedules, but on company strategy.

And most surprising of all?

He started looking at him differently.

At first, Noah thought he was imagining it. But then came the small pauses—the way Ethan’s gaze would linger a little too long when they spoke, the way his brows furrowed as if trying to figure something out.

And one evening, after a particularly exhausting board meeting, Ethan leaned back in his chair, exhaling sharply.

"You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?"

Noah didn’t flinch. He simply smiled, adjusting his glasses. "It’s in my job description, sir."

Ethan scoffed—but there was something different in his expression this time. Something almost curious.

Noah knew better than to read too much into it.

After all, Ethan Wen was still Ethan Wen—prejudiced, stubborn, and blind to his own biases.

But even the most immovable walls crack eventually.

And Noah?

He was more than willing to keep pushing.

Because when it finally happened—when Ethan Wen finally changed—Noah was going to make sure it was a change he’d never forget.

Ethan Wen didn’t like to second-guess himself.

He was a man who built his empire on certainty—on numbers, strategy, and an unshakable belief that his instincts were always right.

So when he caught himself noticing Noah Reid more often than usual, it irritated the hell out of him.

It started with small things.

Noah had always been there—efficient, sharp, and infuriatingly composed—but lately, Ethan had begun to watch him in a way he never had before.

Like when Noah adjusted his glasses during meetings, his fingers briefly brushing over the bridge of his nose. Or the way he stood at Ethan’s side during presentations, his posture straight, his expression unreadable.

Or the way he spoke—so calm, so deliberate, never missing a beat.

Ethan didn’t like it.

Didn’t like that he was paying attention.

Because there was no reason to. Noah was just his secretary. His employee. A man who worked for him, nothing more.

And yet.

Something was different.

Something was changing.

And Ethan had no idea how to stop it.

Monday Morning – 8:03 AM

Noah was already at his desk when Ethan arrived.

Of course he was.

Ethan barely glanced at him as he strode past, but he still caught the way Noah looked up briefly, offering his usual polite nod.

"Good morning, sir."

Ethan grunted in response, shrugging off his coat as he stepped into his office.

His schedule for the day was already waiting on his desk—perfectly organized, as always. A fresh cup of black coffee sat beside it, steaming slightly.

Ethan sat down, flipping through the agenda. A few department meetings, a client call, and—

His jaw tightened.

"Why the hell am I attending a panel discussion on diversity in corporate leadership?"

There was a slight pause before Noah replied, voice even. "It’s part of the initiative you approved, sir."

Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Right."

Noah stepped forward, placing another document on the desk. "I took the liberty of preparing some key points for your discussion. It’s a public event, so media presence will be high. It’s important to present the company in a progressive light."

Ethan scoffed. "Since when have I cared about being progressive?"

"You care about keeping shareholders happy, sir."

Ethan exhaled sharply. "Fair point."

He skimmed through the document Noah had prepared.

Of course, it was flawless—concise, well-structured, every statistic backed by solid research.

Ethan hated how good Noah was at his job.

Because it made it impossible to dismiss him.

"Fine," he muttered. "I’ll go."

Noah simply smiled. "I thought you might say that, sir."

The Panel Discussion

Ethan sat stiffly on stage, feeling more uncomfortable than he had in years.

He wasn’t nervous—Ethan Wen didn’t get nervous—but he didn’t particularly enjoy sitting between two CEOs who looked far too eager to sell their "progressive values" to the audience.

The moderator smiled brightly. "Mr. Wen, what do you think is the biggest challenge in fostering inclusivity within corporate environments?"

Ethan resisted the urge to groan.

He could almost feel Noah’s expectant gaze from the front row.

Great.

Clearing his throat, Ethan leaned forward slightly. "I believe the biggest challenge is efficiency."

A murmur rippled through the audience.

Ethan continued, his tone even. "Many executives hesitate to implement diversity policies because they believe it interferes with productivity. However, recent data suggests otherwise."

He glanced toward Noah—just for a second.

"Companies that actively support diversity initiatives see higher financial growth and innovation. That’s not politics. That’s business."

Noah’s expression didn’t change, but Ethan caught the faintest flicker of approval in his eyes.

He hated how satisfying that felt.

The moderator nodded enthusiastically. "That’s an interesting perspective. Do you think your company is making significant strides in that area?"

Ethan hesitated.

Was it?

A year ago, he would’ve scoffed at the idea.

But now…

His mind flickered to the employees Noah had subtly pushed into leadership roles. The success of the mentorship programs. The increase in team collaboration.

And, most annoyingly, Noah himself.

The way he stood there, arms crossed, completely at ease, as if he already knew the answer.

Ethan exhaled.

"We’re making progress," he admitted.

It was the first time he had ever acknowledged it.

And Noah Reid?

Noah was smirking.

The damn bastard was smirking.

After the Panel

"You set me up," Ethan said the moment they stepped into the car.

Noah slid into the seat across from him, unbothered. "I don’t know what you mean, sir."

Ethan narrowed his eyes. "You knew exactly how I’d respond. You planned that entire thing, didn’t you?"

Noah’s lips curled at the edges. "I merely anticipated your natural inclination to focus on business efficiency, sir."

Ethan huffed. "You’re enjoying this too much."

Noah tilted his head slightly, blue eyes gleaming. "Not at all, sir."

Liar.

Ethan hated how much he liked that expression on him.

The quiet confidence. The challenge behind his gaze.

It made him feel—

No.

He wasn’t going to go there.

He wasn’t.

Ethan turned his gaze toward the window, watching the city blur past.

"You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?"

Noah simply smiled. "It’s in my job description, sir."

Ethan exhaled.

He didn’t want to like Noah Reid.

But for the first time in his life, he wondered if maybe—just maybe—he didn’t have a choice.

Ethan Wen had always believed in control.

Control over his company. Control over his employees. Control over his own damn emotions.

But lately, there was a crack in that control.

And that crack had a name.

Noah Reid.

Tuesday – 7:45 AM

Ethan arrived at the office early. Not because he had to—but because he needed space.

Needed to shake off the lingering tension from yesterday’s panel discussion, from Noah’s unreadable smirk, from the way his chest had tightened when he saw approval in Noah’s eyes.

He had never cared about anyone’s approval before.

Why was this different?

He stepped into his office, exhaling sharply—only to freeze.

Noah was already there.

Sitting at his desk.

Ethan narrowed his eyes. "What the hell are you doing in my chair?"

Noah looked up, completely unbothered. "I needed a change of perspective."

Ethan’s fingers twitched. "Get out."

Noah didn’t move.

Instead, he tilted his head, studying Ethan with those sharp blue eyes—the way a strategist studied the battlefield before striking.

"Why are you here so early, sir?"

Ethan scoffed. "Why are you here so early?"

Noah leaned back in the chair—his chair—and crossed his legs. "Because I knew you would be."

Ethan’s jaw tightened. "And why would I be here early?"

Noah smiled. "Because you’re trying to avoid something."

There was a beat of silence.

Ethan clenched his fists.

He hated how easily Noah could see through him.

"You’re projecting," Ethan said flatly.

Noah shrugged, standing up—finally relinquishing the chair as he moved toward Ethan, stopping just a step too close.

"I don’t run from things, sir."

The challenge was unspoken. Do you?

Ethan inhaled through his nose, stepping past him. "You’re annoying."

Noah chuckled. "That’s also in my job description, sir."

Ethan didn’t look back.

Because if he did, he might notice how close Noah had been. How his cologne—clean, fresh, with a hint of citrus—still lingered in the air.

And that?

That would be dangerous.

Wednesday – 12:20 PM

Ethan was reviewing reports when a knock interrupted him.

He didn’t look up. "What?"

Noah stepped inside, holding a sleek black folder. "The proposal for the new mentorship program is finalized. I thought you might want to review it before it goes to the board."

Ethan waved a hand. "Just approve it yourself."

Noah raised a brow. "That’s…surprisingly trusting of you, sir."

Ethan frowned. "You’ve already manipulated me into half these programs. What difference does one more make?"

Noah’s lips twitched. "So you admit I’ve been manipulating you?"

Ethan looked up then, meeting Noah’s gaze.

His heart did something annoying in his chest.

"You’re still standing there," Ethan pointed out.

Noah’s smile didn’t fade. "And you’re still looking at me, sir."

Silence stretched.

A slow, unbearable tension coiled between them.

Noah knew.

Knew that Ethan was starting to notice him. Knew that Ethan had been thinking about him more than he should.

And worst of all—Noah was enjoying it.

Ethan exhaled sharply, breaking the eye contact. "Get out."

Noah chuckled. "Of course, sir."

And just like that, he was gone.

Ethan leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

This was a problem.

A problem he didn’t know how to fix.

Thursday – 8:47 PM

The office was quiet. Most employees had already gone home.

Ethan was still at his desk, finishing reports, when the door opened.

Noah walked in, holding two cups of coffee.

Ethan raised a brow. "I don’t remember asking for coffee."

Noah placed one cup on his desk anyway. "You’ve been here for twelve hours straight. You need it."

Ethan eyed him. "Since when do you care?"

Noah didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he took a sip of his own coffee, watching Ethan with that same unreadable expression.

Finally, he said, "It’s in my job description, sir."

Ethan scoffed. "You keep saying that."

Noah smiled faintly. "Because it’s true."

Something about the way he said it made Ethan pause.

There was something unspoken in those words.

Something Ethan wasn’t ready to confront.

So instead, he picked up the coffee, took a sip—and immediately scowled.

"This has sugar in it."

Noah’s expression didn’t change. "Yes."

Ethan glared. "I don’t take sugar in my coffee."

Noah tilted his head. "Maybe you should."

Ethan exhaled sharply. "And why the hell would I do that?"

Noah leaned forward slightly, his voice smooth. "Because you might enjoy it."

The words hung between them, heavy with something else.

Ethan’s grip on the cup tightened.

Noah was pushing him. Testing him.

And the worst part?

Ethan wasn’t sure if he wanted to push back—or give in.

Because for the first time in his life, Ethan Wen wasn’t sure who was really in control anymore.

And he hated it