By the time I saw his message, the window to unsend it was long gone. Looking at hot guys is a universal pastime, but for some reason, a wave of guilt washed over me.

Just then, a new message popped up. [Is this your type?]

It was followed by a video.

The setting looked like a private gym. The body on display wasn't a bulky bodybuilder's, but lean and powerful, his skin almost glowing under the cool gym lights. I could clearly see the perfect V-shape of his abs disappearing into the waistband of his gray sweatpants, leaving just enough to the imagination.

As for a shirt… well, he generously wasn't wearing one.

The man in the video seemed a bit self-conscious. The camera shook slightly, revealing the tips of his ears were bright red.

I typed back instantly: [More? Don't be stingy.]

He replied: [You want more? You know what to do.]

A few more clips followed, each one from a more daring angle than the last.

I had to admit, his strategy was damn effective.

I never would have guessed that my cold, ruthless CEO was such a… tease in private.

This was turning out to be unexpectedly thrilling.

Just as I was enjoying the private show, another message arrived.

[If you agree to be my girlfriend, you'll get exclusive content like this. I'll make sure you never have to look at anyone else.]

Life is about the pursuit of money, power, fame, and pleasure.

I didn't care much for the first three, but that last one was definitely tempting.

I replied: [Well… that sounds like a decent proposal.]

It was just an online thing, after all.

Of course, there had to be rules. Our rules.

No public announcements, no couple avatars, no video calls, and absolutely no meeting in person.

He wasn't thrilled, but he agreed.

And so, two years passed just like that.

As he got better at showing off, I found myself more and more addicted to his photos and videos. The man was a natural.

Just when I thought we could keep our little arrangement going forever, he brought up meeting in person again.

I shut it down immediately: [We agreed not to meet. This is an online-only thing, no real-life involvement.]

He sounded frustrated. [I know, I'm sorry, but I really want to see you.]

I knew exactly what was going on. Our company was facing a huge project deadline, and as CEO, he was under immense pressure. He was probably looking for some real-life comfort.

But meeting him meant our secret could get out. The answer was a hard no.

He pestered me for a week straight. Finally, I got fed up. I told him I wanted to break up.

He was completely stunned, as if his server had just been unplugged.

My phone immediately started blowing up with his calls. I sighed and placed it face down on my desk.

Right on cue, my design director, Jessica Miller, called my name.

"Emma, take this new project concept to Alexander."

Everyone in the office knew Jessica had a thing for the CEO.

Normally, she'd jump at any chance to talk to him.

But lately, Alexander had been a walking volcano. The last time she tried to suck up to him, he’d verbally ripped her to shreds. She’d been avoiding him ever since.

My stomach dropped. I forced a professional smile. "Jessica, isn't it a bit over my head to report directly to the CEO?"

This concept had been stuck in limbo for weeks because Alexander was never satisfied. He’d find fault with a design even on a good day, let alone now. She was clearly sending me in to be her cannon fodder.

Jessica just rolled her eyes. "Just do it and stop making excuses."

Fine.

Even though I’d practically memorized every inch of him online, I was still nervous about meeting him face-to-face. He was known for being cold, demanding, and brutally sharp-tongued.

With a deep sigh, I pulled out my phone.

He'd been spamming me with apologies ever since I suggested breaking up. He was clearly panicking, but I hadn't replied. I needed to hold my ground.

Meeting was out of the question.

As for breaking up… I wasn't entirely against it.

I reconsidered for a moment, then sent a message.

[Fine, we don't have to break up. But can you behave? I really hate it when people don't play by the rules.]

He replied instantly: [Babe, you finally answered. I know I was wrong. I'm sorry, I won't do it again.]

It was followed by a crying emoji.

I took a breath and knocked on his office door.

The man inside froze for a second, then cleared his throat.

"Come in."

When I walked in, the first thing I noticed were his slightly red-rimmed eyes.

Had he been… up all night?

He caught my gaze and awkwardly tapped his desk.

"Is that the concept draft? Just leave it there. You can go."

His tone was surprisingly soft.

Normally, he would've launched into a lecture about the chain of command. A colleague was fired last year for going over his manager's head. Of course, that guy's designs were also crap, but it was clear that at Alexander's company, you didn't skip levels.

As expected, the concept was rejected again. Jessica tossed it back on my desk with a smirk.

So, I had no choice but to stay late to revise it.

Alexander, however, seemed to be in a better mood and left on time. Since it was Friday, the rest of the designers cleared out early. Soon, it was just me and the cleaning lady.

I told her she could go, promising to lock up.

Hours later, the beep of a key card at the main door made me jump. I froze, my heart pounding.

I checked the time. It was past 10 PM. Who would be coming back now?

I told myself to be rational. This was a downtown office building, not a horror movie set.

A familiar figure appeared in the doorway. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

It was Alexander.

"What are you doing here all by yourself? Aren't you going home?" he asked, looking surprised.

I gritted my teeth. It's your fault I'm still here, Mr. CEO!

"This project is urgent," I said instead. "I figured I'd work overtime to get it done."

"Oh, that project," Alexander said, pausing. He walked over to my desk. "Let me explain my vision in more detail. It'll be easier for you to revise that way."

My heart leaped into my throat. To make up with him, I had to reply to his messages. And to avoid constantly checking my phone, I had logged into my personal Facebook on my work computer.

This was bad. This was very bad.

Alexander got closer. "Let me see your screen."

My mind went into overdrive as I slowly moved my mouse.

Just as I was about to click away, Alexander said, "Move over. Let me drive—"

"Wait!"

In a sheer panic, I shot up from my chair, knocking my iced Americano over in the process.

The coffee splashed all over the empty chair across from me, successfully startling Alexander.

He just stood there, looking a little stunned. That bewildered expression was, I had to admit, kind of cute.

It was in that moment that it finally clicked: the man who blushed on camera and the CEO who ran a multi-million dollar company were one and the same.

I cleared my throat awkwardly. "Sorry, Mr. Stone. I… I need to grab some paper towels to clean this up. You can take a look at my design file in the meantime." I snatched my phone from the desk and made a beeline for the breakroom.

Alexander just blinked, still a bit dazed. "Uh, sure."

The second I was out of sight, I used my phone to remotely log out of all Facebook sessions. I let out a quiet sigh of relief.

The problem with Alexander was his habit of giving me a real-time report of his life on Facebook. If I hadn't logged out, message notifications would have kept popping up in the corner of my screen. Even if I didn't open them, his cursor could have easily hovered over them, and then my cover would have been blown.

I quickly replied to his messages, then finally returned to my desk.

By the time I got back, Alexander had already finished reviewing my design. He beckoned me over to revise the plan with him.

After explaining what needed to be changed, he stood up. "I'm going to grab you another drink. Be right back."

Oh, God. He was coming back?

Defeated, I buried myself in my work.

Alexander was, without a doubt, a workaholic. With his "guidance," it was nearly midnight by the time we finished the revisions.

"This is almost there," he said, nodding. "Let's go with this direction."

I let out a breath of relief. "Great. That's good."

But deep down, a part of me was still fuming.

Just then, Alexander suddenly asked, "Do you live far? I can give you a ride."

"Huh?" I froze, then quickly waved my hand. "No, no need. I can take the light rail. It's pretty convenient."

"It's late for a woman to be taking the light rail alone in Seattle. It's not safe," Alexander insisted.

I couldn't really refuse. I reluctantly agreed.

At the same time, a Facebook message popped up on my phone. [I'm giving a female colleague a ride home. I made her sit in the back.]

I responded: [Ok.]

We sat in his Tesla in an awkward silence. I couldn't just play on my phone, so I ended up staring out at the city lights like a tourist.

"Oh, by the way," he said, breaking the silence. "What kind of gifts do girls usually like from their boyfriends?"

I froze. Oh, right. My birthday was coming up.

"Um… well, it's the thought that counts, not the gift itself," I said awkwardly.

"The thing is, I've bought gifts for my girlfriend before, but she didn't like them and even returned them to me. So I'm at a loss."

He sounded genuinely frustrated. I, on the other hand, just wanted to scream.

Seriously? I come from a normal, middle-class family. He had bought me a lifetime license for the entire Adobe Creative Cloud suite. I didn't even have a computer powerful enough to run it smoothly. Anyone who saw it would probably assume I was using a pirated version.

What was I supposed to do other than return it?

After a moment, I suggested, "You could make something by hand. Like a drawing, or a small design project. It won't cost much, but it's personal. It shows you put in the effort."

He was quiet after that. "I see. You seem quite young. How old are you?"

My heart skipped a beat. "I'm one year older than you."

"When's your birthday?" he asked.

"August," I replied.

He made a small sound of acknowledgment, then seemed a little embarrassed. "Um… I've never asked your real name—what is it?"

"Emma," I stated. "E-M-M-A."

Online, I had told him my nickname was "Ems."

We didn't speak again until we arrived at my apartment building. I politely said my goodbyes.

"Thank you, Mr. Stone."

"No problem. Head on up," he said.

I nodded and was about to leave.

"Emma!" Alexander suddenly called out.

"Yeah?" I turned back, confused. "What's up?"

"Never mind. Just get inside soon."

A few weeks later, the project plan was approved, and we landed the big client. To celebrate, the company booked a rooftop bar in South Lake Union for a massive party.

At the party, everyone was busy drinking and networking. All I wanted was to find a quiet corner and attack the mini cupcakes.

But then, someone called my name.

"Hey, everyone, let me introduce you to Emma Davis from our design department!" Jessica announced, her voice a little too loud. "Don't let her age fool you—she's incredibly talented. Alexander himself praised her work on the last project. Right, Emma?" She smiled, putting a hand on my shoulder in a show of admiration.

I knew very well that the project wasn't supposed to be mine. It was originally her task, and she had just pushed it onto me.

Online, I was a witty powerhouse. In real life, I was a professional people-pleaser.

I wasn't comfortable being the center of attention, but I forced a smile. "Oh, it was mostly thanks to your leadership, Jessica."

Her grin widened. "Mostly, but you're talented yourself. After all, you graduated from UW." She then gestured towards a man standing nearby. "Come on, Emma. This difficult new client is all yours now."