The moment the office door clicked shut, the air became heavy and suffocating. Charlotte’s heart hammered against her ribs as she realized Zachary’s hands were roaming with a bold, possessive intent. When she tried to shove him back, he simply used his weight to pin her against the cold surface of the desk.

"No... please..." Charlotte trembled, her resistance weakening as her fear grew.

"You wanted this," Zachary declared, his voice dropping into a raspy, primal growl.

Without giving her a chance to breathe, he captured her lips in a forceful, demanding kiss, his hands moving to discard his own clothes with practiced ease.

"Mmm... Mmm!" Charlotte struggled, the image of the Gigolo flashing vividly in her mind. She felt a crushing wave of guilt; she didn't want to betray the man she thought she loved.

As Zachary lifted the hem of her skirt, preparing for a final, decisive advance, Charlotte found her voice and screamed. "No! Stop! I have a boyfriend!"

"A boyfriend?" Zachary paused, his eyes narrowing into slits as he loomed over her. "Is that the best excuse you can come up with?"

"No, it’s the truth!" Charlotte gasped, her chest heaving. "We were together just yesterday..."

The sentence died in her throat. As Zachary shifted, his shirt fell open just enough to reveal the faint, dark ink of a tattoo on his skin. Her breath hitched. She could only see a small corner of it, but it was enough to ignite a fire of suspicion.

She lunged forward, reaching out to tear his shirt open to see the rest—to see if it was the howling wolf. But Zachary was faster. He caught her wrists in a vice-grip and pushed her away, his expression suddenly guarded and wary.

"You... you’re..."

"You can leave now," Zachary interrupted, his voice returning to its usual icy detachment. He straightened his clothes with the clinical precision of a man who felt nothing, looking every bit like a heartless scoundrel.

"What's that on your back?" Charlotte’s voice rose in a frantic pitch. She tried to reach for him again, desperate to uncover the truth.

Zachary sidestepped her easily, arching a cool, mocking eyebrow. "What’s wrong? Are you trying to throw yourself at me now that I've gotten you aroused?"

"I—"

Before she could defend herself, a sharp knock echoed through the room, followed by Bruce’s steady voice. "Mr. Nacht, the product launch is concluding. Mr. Sterk requests your presence downstairs for the final segment."

"I’m on my way," Zachary called back.

Charlotte bit her lip, knowing she had lost her window of opportunity. "You... you should go back to work," she muttered, smoothing her hair.

"Stupid woman. Your underwear was removed without you even noticing."

Zachary reached down to the black leather sofa and held out her white lace panties, a faint, teasing glint in his eyes.

Overwhelmed with embarrassment, Charlotte snatched them from his hand.

"There’s a break room in the back," Zachary added, his gaze still simmering with suppressed desire. "Go tidy yourself up."

Charlotte didn't wait for another word; she turned and bolted toward the changing room.

As Zachary watched her retreating figure, a charming, dangerous smile spread across his face. The fire in his blood was still burning hot, but he knew how to wait. He was a predator, and there would be plenty of opportunities to finish what they started.

Downstairs, the product launch reached its grand finale. Zachary appeared behind a massive, translucent screen. The broadcast showed only his towering, powerful silhouette, keeping his face a mystery to the public.

Even before he spoke, the audience erupted into thunderous applause.

Behind the screen, Zachary’s voice resonated through the hall as he explained the new technologies. He spoke of a philosophy where machines helped mankind live more efficiently, freeing people to focus on what truly mattered.

Finally, he unveiled the latest multifunctional robot, showcasing its capabilities to a stunned crowd. As reporters scrambled to photograph the robot and the mysterious silhouette of the man behind it, the atmosphere reached a fever pitch.

Watching the broadcast from the monitor in the office, Charlotte felt a newfound sense of awe. He was brilliant, cold, and undeniably powerful. At the same time, her suspicion that the CEO and the Gigolo were the same person intensified until it was almost a certainty.

"Ms. Windt," a voice greeted her. It was Bruce, leading a team of staff into the room to clean up the remains of the meeting.

"Mr. Bruce," Charlotte replied quickly, straightening her posture. Even though Zachary’s inner circle treated her with immense respect, she was always careful to remain professional and humble.

Bruce paused, giving Charlotte a long, searching look. He had spent most of his time traveling for work, and on the few occasions he was in the office, he had only seen her from a distance.

Now, seeing her up close, a flicker of recognition crossed his face. "Ms. Windt... you look incredibly familiar. Have we met somewhere before?"