At two in the morning, I thought I heard some weird noises on the balcony.

Curiosity got the better of me, but what did I see?

Fennrick, in nothing but boxer briefs, working out.

Wait. Who works out in the middle of the night?!

Right then, my phone buzzed with a voice note from Lila: “Babe… did you get home safe? I forgot to ask.”

Her voice was hoarse.

I’d been home for three hours.

They couldn’t just be finishing now, could they?

I typed nervously: “Does your fox fae ever wake up in the middle of the night to… workout?”

Two quick voice notes pinged back.

“The owner said fox faes have strong desires. If they can’t satisfy those desires, they get restless at night and workout to relieve themselves.

“Maybe you should try it with yours… hmm.”

…She’d been kissed again.

The sound alone was driving me crazy.

Add that to Fennrick’s taut, sculpted back under the balcony light?

I nearly lost my mind. Argh!

So I edged closer, pretending to be curious.

“Fennrick… what exactly are you doing?” I asked.

He jumped at my sudden presence, but quickly recovered his icy composure. “I’m working out.”

“Working out, huh? At this hour?” I stepped even closer and blew a hot breath over his ear.

Technically, I hadn’t touched him. So I didn’t break any rules.

He stood perfectly still, but the slight throb of his throat betrayed him.

I leaned even closer, exhaling deliberately against his throat. “Or… Are you having trouble sleeping? Why not, Mr. Thorne? Do you… want something?”

He froze completely, then stepped back, cheeks flushing crimson.

“Autumn, you…”

His voice caught and died off. His eyes, though, screamed frustration laced with embarrassment.

I raised my hands innocently and arched an eyebrow.

“See? Didn’t touch you.”

He grabbed his sweat-damp clothes from the floor and retreated to his room in a huff.

Only then did I notice the sheen of sweat glimmering on his skin under the dim light.

⸻

Seven days of observation was finally over.

At sunrise, I stormed into Fennrick’s room, voice booming, “Time for riches!”

He opened his eyes slowly, irritation flickering across his brow.

Fennrick looked exhausted. It looked as if he hadn’t slept a wink.

He scrolled through his phone and pulled up a news article. It was about a billionaire spending a fortune trying to find his lost dog.

“Contact him today,” he said lazily, stretching, “I’ll go find the dog in a bit.”

I hesitated. “Can you really locate this dog?”

Fennrick gave me a single, sharp glance.

After some thought, I didn’t call the billionaire. What if Fennrick failed, or the billionaire got annoyed and cut me off from the money…

That was the reality for the average joe. We couldn't afford to take risk.

But then, Fennrick found the dog.

The billionaire, completely thrilled, hugged the dog and wired ten million dollars straight into my account.

I counted again and again. My bank balance was now eight digits. My jaw dropped.

Fennrick wasn’t lying.

He wasn’t a fox fae. He’s a living, breathing god of wealth!

I vowed to never disrespect him again. From then on, I’d treat him like he was my god!

And yet, Fennrick still wanted to play his little games.

After his morning shower, he left his freshly-dried shirt in plain view. I dutifully ironed it and tucked it back into the closet.

He glanced at my frumpy pajamas and frowned.

“Why aren’t you wearing my shirt anymore?”

“Do you… want me to?”

“…No.”

Okay, so what’s the issue?

“Mr. Thorne, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do from now onward.”

He lifted an eyebrow, half-amused. “You’re surprisingly considerate.”

“Of course I am.”

He returned his gaze to the TV, flipping through channels like he couldn’t find anything worth watching.

Even now, Fennrick still liked going shirtless around the house.

Instead of getting flustered like before, all I ever worried about was whether he’d catch a cold. I kept nudging the AC warmer—one degree, then another.

He still jogged out the door in those gray running pants, and I just trailed after him with a towel, wiping the sweat off his neck and shoulders like some doting assistant.

Sometimes I even turned away girls who asked for his contact.

“Sorry, he’s mine.”

I swear that every time he heard that, his mood skyrocketed.

He still did his morning ab workouts on the balcony, but I wasn’t out there doing any core exercises anymore. Instead, I was in the kitchen, studying recipes like my life depended on it.

A god of wealth like him needed to be treated right.

“What do fox faes usually eat?” I muttered.

“Rabbit? Chicken? Probably not vegetables, right?”

But the chicken was so damn hard to chop. One wrong angle and I sliced my finger open.

I yelped.

Fennrick sprinted over instantly, grabbing my wrist.

I jerked back, wrenching free.

“I-It wasn’t me trying to touch you! You can’t-”

Before I could finish, he stepped in again and lifted my injured finger to his mouth.

And then he… licked the wound.

With that impossibly restrained, ethereal face of his.

A tingling rush shot straight through my limbs.

Even the pain disappeared.

My brain fizzed. Whether from shock or excitement, I couldn’t tell.

I reflexively pulled back, but he’d already reached for a band‑aid and pressed it over the cut with careful precision.

My pulse was out of control.

“Mr. Thorne,” I whispered, inhaling slowly, “are you trying to seduce me?”

He pushed me out of the kitchen with a cold expression.

“Our saliva speeds up healing. Don’t overthink it.”

I peeked under the band‑aid. The wound really was smaller.

It didn’t even hurt when pressed.

Could this be fae magic?

⸻

Later, Fennrick stood shirtless in my kitchen, cooking like he owned the place.

I forced myself not to look.

One more glance and I’d be tempted to commit a crime.

And honestly, the crime would be the least of my worries. The real disaster was if he stopped helping me make money.

I chugged a cold glass of water to calm down.

Then, cautiously, I asked, “Mr. Thorne… when’s the next time you’ll help me get rich?”

“In a month.”

That was… kind of long.

But alright, I’d happily wait.

The real problem was how to survive being around someone this dangerously attractive for thirty more days.

So I decided to avoid Fennrick altogether after work, and worked overtime.

Except… work made me sleepy. Without intending to, I drifted off to sleep.

I had a great dream, too.

In the dream, I lifted Fennrick shirt, hands sliding across his perfect abs. Sleek, firm, beautifully sculpted.

I caressed his abs like treasure.

That was until he caught my wrist, his voice low and amused as he muttered, “Are you done yet?”

My stomach dropped, and I snapped awake.

Fennrick was actually sitting right beside me… with his hand wrapped around my wrist?!

So that wasn’t a dream? I really touched him??

My brain lagged.

I shot upright, but my numb legs betrayed me and I pitched forward.

Fennrick caught me fast, but my chin still smacked the desk, leaving a bright red line across it.

I stared at my reflection in horror, then glared at the culprit.

“Why are you here?!”

“How else would I know that Miss Lockhart was craving my body?”

“It was a dream! Dreams mean the opposite!”

Seeing the cut on my chin, I shot him a look.

“See? This is all your fault.”

Fennrick’s eyes flicked to the cut on my chin, darkening with something unreadable.

“I can help,” he said quietly.

Images of Fennrick licking my finger flashed through my mind.

My heart jumped.

I pressed my lips together.

He let out a soft laugh. “What? Are you afraid?”

…Excuse me?

I wasn’t afraid of anything.