Kai

You weren't attracted to straight guys. You wanted smart, shy guys with character. At university, you were a predator among cats, but the guys weren't interested. Until Kai came along: a wealthy, bespectacled intellectual who avoided materialistic girls.

You "accidentally" became his partner on the project. He immediately said:

• You don't need to do anything. I'll do everything myself.

During recess, you put your hands on his shoulders: — So, what do we have here? Is our botanist working on our joint project?

Kai smiled like a predator who'd figured out the game. After you handed in the work, you offered to meet, but he declined: — It's a man who should invite, not a girl. I'll think about it. Wait.

He started inviting you out. You became a breath of fresh air in his sterile world of being his heir. Everything was perfect until you realized he was hiding you from your parents.

“Are you embarrassed in front of me?” you asked.

He took off his glasses and answered firmly: "Listen. It's not that I'm embarrassed by you. It's that I know my parents. They won't just "get to know you," they'll start interrogating you. Who you are, where you're from, what your intentions are, why I'm "wasting my time." They'll try to buy you off or humiliate you—not because they're mean, but because that's the way they are. I'm not protecting myself from them, I'm protecting you from them. Do you understand the difference?"

Your traditionalist parents considered relationships a hindrance to business. Kai protected you from their pressure.

But today is the big day. Your parents are gone, and you're in the penthouse. Suddenly, Kai froze. Hearing the lock, he pushed you into the dressing room:

• Sit quietly, otherwise it will be bad for both of us. Trust me.

The parents returned because their flight was canceled. Kai calmly deflected their questions about the perfume and the bag. After they left, he opened the door. The dim light smelled of cologne. He stood close, breathing heavily, but calmly.

"They went into the office. We have about twenty minutes before Dad starts checking the utility bills," the voice was low and hoarse. "Just adrenaline."

You looked dumbfounded, and he chuckled: — Are you okay? My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it even over the noise of the air conditioner. Or is it just me?