LOVE SPEAKS[I'm attracted to you]

The next morning, the three of them arrived at the towering glass building of the family friend's business corporation. It was intimidating, sleek, and professional—just like its owner.

She had never been here before, but her brother had, and judging by his unimpressed look, he had seen everything she was about to witness.

The moment they stepped inside, the air changed. Employees moved quickly, whispering in hushed voices. A cold tension filled the space as if no one dared to breathe too loudly.

And then she saw why.

The family friend walked ahead of them, his posture straight, his expression blank. He was like a different person—unapproachable, untouchable, and completely in control.

Her brother sighed. "Yep. This is normal."

She frowned. "He's always like this here?"

"Worse, sometimes."

As they followed him, she noticed something else—the way employees stiffened when he passed, how no one dared to make small talk. Some even held their breath when he glanced their way.

They reached his office, a massive space filled with bookshelves, dark furniture, and a desk stacked high with documents.

Before she could say anything, the door burst open, and a woman rushed in. She was elegantly dressed, her heels clicking against the floor as she stopped in front of the desk.

"Sir, I finished the reports you assigned yesterday," she said, placing a thick stack of papers in front of him.

He didn't even look up. Instead, he grabbed another folder and handed it to her without hesitation. "Read through these and summarize them by evening."

Her expression faltered. "But, sir, I—"

He cut her off with a glance. "I don't repeat myself."

She blinked, swallowing hard, then quickly took the folder and stepped back.

Her brother smirked. "Ouch. Poor lady."

She, on the other hand, was more focused on something else. "Wait a minute… haven't you already gone through those documents?"

The family friend leaned back in his chair, expression unreadable. "Yes."

She gasped. "Then why are you making her—"

Her brother laughed. "Oh, this is normal too. He piles work on her so she stops trying to flirt with him."

Her mouth dropped open. "You bully her so she stops liking you?!"

The family friend didn't even blink. "It works."

The woman, who had been standing there awkwardly, turned to leave but stole a glance at him. "Sir, would you like me to bring you coffee?"

"No."

"Lunch?"

"Unnecessary."

"Perhaps I can—"

"Leave."

The woman bit her lip but gave a polite nod before walking out.

She stared after her in disbelief. "You're brutal."

Her brother shook his head. "Oh, that's nothing. The real problem is that he never listens when I tell him to rest." He crossed his arms. "You do realize you're a human and not some machine, right?"

The family friend calmly picked up another document. "I'm working."

"You always say that."

She frowned, suddenly noticing how his fingers looked slightly tense, the faint signs of exhaustion under his eyes. He really never stops.

Her brother sighed, rubbing his temples. "I swear, you'll drop dead one day, and I'll be the one saying 'I told you so.'"

She placed her hands on her hips. "And what about me?"

The family friend finally looked up. "What about you?"

"I care if you overwork yourself too, you know." She stepped forward, narrowing her eyes. "Do you even eat properly when we're not there?"

Silence.

Her brother smirked. "You see? He never answers that question."

She groaned. "This is ridiculous."

But deep down, she realized something else.

Even if he was cold, even if he hid behind his work, even if he never listened when told to rest—she still cared.

And that was the real problem.

She let out a long sigh, stepping closer to his desk. "Enough. You're coming with me."

The family friend barely lifted his eyes from the document in front of him. "I'm working."

She reached over and snatched the paper from his hands.

Her brother burst into laughter. "Oh, I like this."

The family friend exhaled slowly, giving her a pointed look. "Give that back."

"No." She crossed her arms. "You're going to rest. Right now."

His jaw tensed slightly, but something in his gaze softened when he looked at her.

She grabbed his wrist. "Come on."

For a moment, he didn't move. Then, without a word, he stood up.

Her brother blinked. "Wait, wait, wait. You tell him to rest once, and he actually listens?"

She smirked. "Jealous?"

Her brother groaned. "Unbelievable."

Ignoring him, she led the family friend out of the office, down the hall, and into the private cabin-like lounge at the top floor of the building—a space only he used when he actually took breaks.

Not that he ever did.

Inside, it was peaceful. Large windows showed a view of the city, and the soft lighting made the place feel almost warm.

She pulled him toward the couch. "Sit."

He hesitated, then finally sank into the cushions.

She smiled. "See? That wasn't so hard."

He sighed. "You're persistent."

"And you're stubborn," she shot back, stepping toward the small table. There was already food placed there—probably brought by one of the assistants earlier, untouched.

She grabbed a plate and brought it to him. "Eat."

He took it but didn't move.

She sat beside him, her voice softer this time. "Please."

That made him pause. He glanced at her, then finally picked up the fork.

Her brother would've thrown a fit if he saw how easily she got him to listen.

She grinned. "See? Was that so hard?"

He chewed slowly, looking at her. "…No."

She giggled. "I knew it."

They sat there, the tension easing as he ate.

For once, he wasn't drowning in work.

For once, he let himself breathe.

And for the first time, she realized—she was the only one who could make him do that.

She didn't argue. She didn't roll her eyes or try to be stubborn.

When he told her to eat, she simply picked up her fork and ate beside him, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

For a while, silence settled between them. A comfortable one.

Then, she started chatting—about little things, about her day, about how annoying her brother could be sometimes. She wasn't expecting him to say much.

And, as expected, he barely spoke.

But when he did, it was only five words at a time.

She told him about how she tripped on the stairs that morning.

His response? "Still the prettiest girl ever."

She nearly choked on her food. "W-What?!"

He kept eating, unfazed.

She huffed, ignoring the heat rushing to her face.

She changed the topic, telling him about how her best friend at school had embarrassed her in front of the whole class.

His response? "They're just jealous of you."

Her heart skipped a beat. "You—you can't just say stuff like that so casually!"

He simply took another bite of his food, glancing at her with that unreadable gaze.

She tried again, this time mentioning how she'd failed a small quiz because she forgot to study.

His response? "You're still the smartest one."

She wanted to throw her spoon at him. "You—ugh! Are you doing this on purpose?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he leaned back slightly, looking at her in that way that made her stomach flip.

She turned away, her face burning. "You're impossible."

He finally smirked. "Only for you, sweetheart."

She did throw the spoon this time.