The clock had long struck midnight, yet Vincent Carter sat unmoving in his home office, the dim light of his desk lamp casting sharp shadows across his sharp, exhausted features. His laptop screen remained open, displaying a detailed dossier that had consumed him for hours.

Beside him, an empty tumbler of whiskey rested on its side, and a faint trail of smoke rose from the nearly burned-out nicotine-free cigarette sat on the edge of a crystal ashtray.

The information he had uncovered felt almost surreal. Akisuki Rei wasn't just a remarkable secretary with an enigmatic aura - she was royalty, having royal blood running in her veins, a name that held immense reverence in Japanese history.

He tapped his thumb rhythmically against his thigh, his thoughts spiraling. Princess Akisuki Rei. A direct descendant of Emperor Kenji Rei, part of a lineage shrouded in both modern prestige and ancient mystique.

It made no sense.

Why is she here? he wondered for the hundredth time, his carbon-grey eyes narrowing at the glowing screen.

A woman born into wealth, status, and power choosing to vanish from her gilded life to live as a simple secretary in the U.S.? And her parents - powerful, influential figures in Japan - allowing it?

His fascination with her had been growing for weeks, but now? It was something else entirely, a dangerous mix of curiosity, admiration, and something deeper he refused to name.

He glanced at the screen, scanning the detailed genealogy report for what felt like the hundredth time. The name Hanabi Ryo stood out prominently, Akisuki's ancestor and a figure of beauty and strength, known for her heterochromatic eyes and fiery grace.

So, that's where she gets it.

He leaned back, taking a slow sip of his whiskey. His gaze flicked to a photo of Akisuki at a formal event, likely in her teenage years. She was wearing a traditional kimono, her posture perfect, her expression serene yet distant.

"Why did you come here, Akisuki?" he muttered under his breath, rubbing his temples.

The questions swirled like a storm in his head, each one tugging him further from sleep. By the time the horizon began to lighten with the early blush of dawn, Vincent had resigned himself to the fact that rest would evade him entirely.

- 🍁 -

The growl of his car's engine echoed through the underground parking lot of Carter Enterprises as Vincent pulled into his reserved space. He barely noticed the luxury brand of the vehicle he had chosen that morning - a sleek black sports car that matched his brooding mood.

Stepping out, he adjusted the cuffs of his tailored suit, running a hand through his wolf-cut hair, still slightly tousled from the sleepless night. His head snapped up at the familiar roar of a motorcycle, and there she was.

Akisuki Rei, the enigma herself, pulled into the lot astride her Kawasaki, her presence commanding even in something as mundane as parking a bike.

The engine purred to a stop, and she gracefully swung her leg over, removing her helmet in one fluid motion. Her raven-black hair tumbled free, cascading down her back like liquid silk. The morning sun filtering through the entrance cast a halo around her, and Vincent felt his pulse quicken against his will.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Something inside him snapped. He strode toward her with determined steps, his shoes clicking sharply against the concrete. Akisuki noticed him just as she secured her helmet on the bike, her expression shifting from neutral to slightly wary.

"Mr. Carter?" she asked, her tone even but laced with mild surprise.

He didn't answer. Before she could react further, he was upon her, his hand gripping her wrist as he backed her against the nearest wall. The coolness of the concrete seeped through her blazer, and she looked up at him through her thin-rimmed glasses, wide-eyed.

"Sir," she started, her voice soft but cautious. "What's going on? Are you-"

"I couldn't sleep," he cut her off, his voice low and rough, his face just inches from hers.

She blinked up at him, her heterochromic eyes searching his for answers. "Is something wrong? Did something happen?"

He didn't reply. Instead, he reached for her hand, placing it against his chest. She could feel the erratic rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palm, and her brows knitted in concern.

"Sir," she tried again, her voice steady but with a hint of unease. "You're scaring me a little."

He growled low in his throat, the sound primal and unexpected even to himself. Before she could withdraw her hand, his other moved to her throat. His fingers curled lightly around her neck - not enough to hurt, but enough to make her feel his power.

Her lips parted in shock, and her hands instinctively flew to his wrist. She didn't push him away; instead, her touch was soft, her fingers cool against his skin.

"Don't test me, Akisuki," he said, his voice a dangerous whisper. His grey eyes locked onto hers, stormy and intense. "You're not who I thought you were. But that doesn't mean you can keep secrets from me."

She inhaled sharply, her gaze unwavering despite the tension. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, her voice quieter now but no less firm.

His grip loosened slightly, but his hand remained where it was. He leaned in closer, his lips near her ear. "I know who you truly are. Princess."

Her breath hitched, but she quickly masked her reaction, her lips pressing into a thin line.

"You've done your homework," she said coolly, her tone belying the slight tremor in her voice.

Vincent released her throat, stepping back just enough to allow her to breathe freely. His hands found their way to his hips as he exhaled deeply, his gaze still fixed on her like a hawk watching its prey.

"I'm not the only one who needs rules," he said finally, his voice calmer but still carrying a sharp edge.

Akisuki straightened her blazer, meeting his gaze with a mix of defiance and composure. "You're the one who dragged me into this arrangement," she shot back. "If anyone's going to play by the rules, it's you."

His lips quirked into a humorless smile. "We'll see about that."

As she stepped past him, her heels clicking against the concrete, Vincent stayed rooted in place. The fire in her eyes lingered in his mind, and his chest felt tight - not from anger, but from something far more dangerous.

She's a walking contradiction, he thought, running a hand through his hair as he watched her disappear into the elevator. And I'm caught in her web.

The embers of Vincent's nicotine-free cigarette glowed faintly in the dim parking lot, the curling, vanilla-infused smoke dissipating into the stale air. He stood there for a long moment, leaning against the wall, his thoughts spiraling.

It wasn't just respect or attraction anymore. It was something dark and ominous - obsession.

The fire Akisuki Rei had unknowingly ignited in him burned bright, threatening to consume him. But for now, he'd bury it, mask it, and hold his composure. Or at least he'd try.

- 🍁 -

The day dragged on like molasses. Every second felt like an hour, and Vincent found himself teetering on the edge of composure. Meetings came and went, but his mind was elsewhere - fixated on her.

She wasn't helping either. Akisuki had a natural grace about her, moving through the office like she belonged in every room she entered. Her laughter was rare but melodic, her voice even and calm during stressful moments.

But it wasn't her poise or professionalism that undid him. It was the small things: the way her eyes flickered with a hint of fire when she was frustrated, the way she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear while reviewing documents, the quiet confidence she carried even when others tried to undermine her.

Vincent clenched his jaw, his grip tightening around the pen in his hand during a morning briefing. His team exchanged uneasy glances as his irritation seeped into the room, a sharp contrast to his usual composed demeanor.

"Carter," one of his senior managers ventured cautiously, "are we sticking with the proposal or revising the budget allocation?"

Vincent's eyes snapped to the man, cold and unyielding. "If I wanted a redundant question, I'd ask for one," he bit out, his voice laced with frustration.

The room fell silent, tension thick in the air. Akisuki sat quietly at the far end of the table, her stylus poised over her iPad. Her odd-toned eyes flicked toward Vincent, assessing him with a mix of curiosity and concern.

The meeting that evening was disastrous. Vincent's irritation spilled over, resulting in an outburst that left his team scrambling to salvage the discussion. Akisuki remained calm throughout, offering quiet solutions to mitigate the damage.

When the meeting ended, Vincent stormed back to his office, slamming the door behind him. Minutes later, Akisuki followed, her Louboutin heels clicking sharply against the polished floor.

She entered without knocking, closing the door behind her. Vincent stood by the window, his back to her, his shoulders tense.

Akisuki watched him warily as she walked closer with a stack of files. She placed them on his desk, her movements precise.

"Your signature is needed on these," she said, her tone neutral.

Vincent barely glanced at the papers. "Leave them."

That was the end of Akisuki's patience.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked, her voice sharp but not unkind.

Vincent turned slowly, his grey eyes locking onto hers. Vincent's hands clenched into fists at his sides. He turned toward her, his grey eyes piercing. "Why do you care?"

The words came out harsher than intended, but Akisuki didn't flinch. Instead, she crossed her arms, her gaze steady.

"Because you're acting like a different person," she said evenly. "And it's affecting everyone around you."

Her directness caught him off guard, and for a moment, he didn't know how to respond.

"I'm fine," he said finally, though the tension in his voice betrayed him.

"No, you're not," she countered.

Vincent's frustration boiled over. He crossed the room in a few quick strides, trapping her against the edge of his desk, his hands onneither side of her hips, his face just inches away from hers.

Akisuki's eyes widened, but she didn't back down. "What are you doing?"

He didn't answer, his hand brushing against her wrist as he leaned in.

"Why do you care so much?" he demanded, his voice low and rough.

"Because I work for you," she replied, her tone steady despite the proximity. "And because this isn't you."

"Excuse me?" he said, his tone low and dangerous.

Akisuki didn't flinch. "You've been on edge all day. You're snapping at everyone, derailing projects, and acting like a man possessed. This isn't like you, sir."

Her words struck a chord, snapping him out of the spiral he hadn't realized he was in. He ran a hand through his wolf-cut hair, exhaling deeply.

"I'm..." He paused, struggling to find the right words. "I'm sorry."

The apology was quiet, almost reluctant, but genuine. Akisuki's expression softened.

"Sir," she said gently, taking a step closer. "Whatever's going on... you don't have to carry it alone."

Her words, simple yet profound, caught him off guard.

Before he could respond, she reached out, placing a hand on his arm. The touch was light, almost hesitant, but grounding.

"I'm fine," he muttered, though his voice lacked conviction.

"No, you're not," she replied softly, her hand moving to his shoulder. Her fingers brushed against the fabric of his suit, steady and reassuring.

Vincent closed his eyes for a moment, the tension in his body easing slightly under her touch. It was subtle, intimate in a way that words couldn't replicate.

"Thank you," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

Akisuki nodded, her hand lingering for a moment before she stepped back. "Try to take it easy, okay?"

She turned to leave, but Vincent's voice stopped her.

"Akisuki."

She looked back, her expression questioning.

"Stay."

As her mismatched eyes met his grey ones, Vincent's shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him. For the first time in years, he felt vulnerable - and it terrified him.