Walking into Millers Enterprises felt like stepping into a world built on sin and power.
Gie had worked with powerful clients before—royalty, tycoons, celebrities—but this?
This was different.
Because Alexander Millers didn't just own a business.
He owned an empire.
The elevator ride to the top floor was silent, save for the soft hum of the music playing through the sleek, gold-trimmed panels.
When the doors slid open, Claire—Alexander's ever-efficient assistant—led her through the hallway of decadence.
Everything about his headquarters screamed luxury, dominance, control.
It wasn't just an office—it was a statement.
The floors were polished obsidian, gleaming like liquid midnight under the soft golden lights. The walls were deep charcoal, accented with art that wasn't just expensive—it was deliberately sensual.
Abstract paintings in rich, dark reds and golds, sculptures that subtly hinted at the beauty of the human form, everything balanced on the edge of art and indulgence.
And then there were the photographs—tasteful, artistic shots of bodies intertwined, skin on skin, moments frozen in time. Not crude. Not tacky. Just... intimate.
She had expected something colder, something more like a corporate tower of glass and steel.
But this?
This was deliberate.
Every choice spoke of pleasure and control, of a company that didn't just sell sex—it curated desire.
Gie swallowed hard.
She had designed for this man, but she had never actually stepped into his world before.
Now?
Now she was walking right into the lion's den.
Claire stopped in front of a set of massive double doors.
Polished wood. Dark. Sleek.
No nameplate, no title.
Just his domain.
Claire turned to her. "He's expecting you."
Gie nodded, exhaling softly, steadying herself before stepping inside.
The first thing she saw was him.
Alexander Millers sat behind a massive desk, dressed in a tailored black suit, the fabric flawless, hugging his frame like it had been designed just for him.
His jacket was open, revealing a hint of the crisp white shirt beneath, his tie slightly loosened like he had been in deep thought before she arrived.
But the thing that stopped her breath?
The earring.
The black diamond she had designed for him.
It caught the light subtly as he moved, gleaming against his skin, a stark contrast against his dark blonde hair, his sharp jawline, those gray eyes that were already locked onto her.
He looked... impossibly good.
Like power and temptation wrapped in a three-piece suit.
She tore her eyes on him, scared he'll notice.
His office was different from the rest of the building.
Larger. More private.
There were floor-to-ceiling windows on one side, offering a breathtaking view of the city below.
The desk was solid ebony, minimalistic, but undeniably expensive.
But what really caught her attention was the seating area—a low-lit lounge space, complete with a bar, leather seating, and a single glass table that looked like it had seen more than just business deals.
She shouldn't have noticed the faint trace of a woman's perfume in the air.
Shouldn't have noticed the way the leather chairs were positioned just so, almost like they were designed for long, indulgent conversations—or something else entirely.
Everything about this office was built for control.
"You're staring."
His voice pulled her back to reality.
She blinked, realizing she had been frozen in place, standing there like she had forgotten how to function.
She cleared her throat, forcing herself to move forward, to ignore the ridiculous heat climbing up her spine.
He stood as she approached, his movements smooth, effortless, like he was entirely aware of the way the room bent to his presence.
"Gie," he greeted, his voice low, slow, pulling at something deep inside her.
"Alexander," she managed.
She hated how breathless she sounded.
He gestured toward the seating area. "Sit with me."
It wasn't a request. She didn't like that usually but still followed him.
She settled onto one of the leather seats, the cool material against her skin doing absolutely nothing to calm her.
He sat across from her, elbows resting lightly on his knees, looking at her like she was something to be studied.
"So," he said, glancing at the small, exquisite box in her hands, the one containing the cufflinks she had obsessed over for weeks.
"Show me."
Gie inhaled, forcing herself to focus.
She placed the box on the glass table, flipping it open, revealing the set she had designed just for him.
Platinum. Deep, polished black onyx at the center.
The shape was sharp, structured—not just a simple stone setting, but engraved in intricate layers, forming a subtle yet powerful crest.
Not something loud.
Something whispered in luxury and control.
His fingers brushed over the surface of one, lightly tracing the edges.
He didn't just look at them.
He studied them.
"Explain it to me," he murmured, glancing up at her.
Gie blinked. "Explain?"
"How you made it," he clarified. "Why you designed it this way. Why you chose these materials, this engraving."
He wanted to hear her process.
To understand her art.
Something about that made her stomach flutter.
She exhaled, forcing herself to focus on the pieces, on what she knew best.
"Platinum," she started, her fingers lightly skimming over the cufflinks. "Because it lasts. It doesn't tarnish. It's stronger than gold but still sleek, elegant."
He watched her hands, his expression unreadable.
"The black onyx," she continued, "isn't just for aesthetics. It's a grounding stone. People say it absorbs negative energy, keeps the mind clear."
"Do you believe that?" he asked, his voice smooth, almost curious.
She hesitated.
Then—she told the truth.
"I don't know," she admitted. "But I do know it's strong. And it suits you."
A small pause.
"You designed this with me in mind."
It wasn't a question.
It was a fact.
Gie's breath caught.
Because he wasn't wrong.
She had designed it for him.
And sitting here, seeing him wear her earring, seeing his fingers trace over something she had created, hearing him ask about her process, her choices, her thoughts—
It made something warm bloom in her chest.