Title: The Confession of Need
I found the meeting room—a sterile, silent space with a long mahogany table. My lips were still pulsing, a constant, physical reminder of the illicit secret I now carried. I rubbed my wrist, where Kang Bok Soo's thumb had pressed that final, possessive message. You are mine.
I sat at the end of the table, pulling out the schedule, desperately trying to focus on flight times and time zones. Professional. Cold. Perfect. That had to be my mantra. I couldn't afford to be the trembling girl he kissed in the dark.
The door opened, and Kang Bok Soo walked in alone. He wasn't in his tuxedo anymore. He wore a simple black t-shirt and jeans, a look that somehow made him even more devastatingly handsome and accessible. The scent of his cologne filled the small room, instantly dragging me back to the limo.
He didn't sit down. He walked around the table, stopping directly opposite me.
"The schedule can wait," he said, his voice low, lacking the professional edge he used for Ms. Kim. It was the intimate voice, the voice used for confessions and commands.
I didn't look up. "We need to finalize the New York logistics, Mr. Kang. We lose the window in ten minutes."
He leaned both hands flat on the table, trapping me in the small triangle of space between his arms. His face was only inches from mine. This was his signature move—the relentless, non-verbal pressure.
"Stop calling me 'Mr. Kang,'" he commanded. "Not here. Not when we're alone."
I finally lifted my eyes, meeting his intense, possessive stare. "That's your name, and that is my job."
"Your job is to meet my needs," he countered, his voice a low growl. "And I have a new need."
He straightened, running a hand through his hair, a sign of agitation I now recognized as vulnerability. He was still the anxious man beneath the surface, but now that anxiety was fueling his demand for intimacy.
"The kiss was a mistake," I said quickly, trying to cut him off before he could destroy me again. "It was the adrenaline, the pressure. I won't let it happen again."
He smiled—a slow, cruel curve of his lips. "You liked it, Peter Bella. You wanted it just as much as I did." He leaned in again, his breath warm on my face. "And you know it wasn't a mistake."
He then moved the conversation from physical passion to emotional dependency, using the secrets we shared.
"The debt isn't paid with logistics," he continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You owe me for your mother. I owe you for the silent nights, for the nightmares you chase away."
His eyes burned with that familiar, possessive need. "I don't just need an efficient assistant, Peter Bella. I need an anchor. I need someone who knows the truth and won't flinch when the mask drops."
He slammed his hand down softly on the table, making me jump.
"From now on," he declared, his voice firm, "when we are alone, you will call me Bok Soo. You will not treat me like your boss. You will treat me like the secret that saved your family. And you will be honest with me."
He stepped back and looked at me, waiting for my surrender. He wasn't demanding my body; he was demanding my emotional soul.
I took a deep, shaky breath, the weight of the debt and the urgency of my mother's recovery crushing my resistance. He was right. He had earned this. I couldn't lie to the man who held my family's life in his hands.
"B-Bok Soo," I whispered, the name feeling illicit and terrifying on my tongue.
His tense shoulders relaxed instantly. A look of fierce triumph and profound relief crossed his face. He had won.
"Good," he sighed, the word thick with satisfaction. He walked toward the door, leaving me alone at the table.
He stopped, turning his head sharply, his eyes glinting with a new, dark intensity.
"And now that you've been honest with my name," he commanded, his voice a low, teasing challenge, "be honest about the kiss. Tell me what you really want, Peter Bella."
He didn't wait for the answer. He walked out, leaving me trembling in the silence, with the heavy schedule uselessly spread before me, and one simple, terrifying truth: I wanted the villain who owned me.