April O'Neil was struggling to maintain the cool composure of a professional journalist, but her tightly clenched fists and slightly shining blue eyes betrayed her internal excitement.
Hawk extended his hand toward her: "However, to compensate everyone for losing out on their gossip time... Ms. April O'Neil," all eyes in the room instantly fixed on April. Her heart pounded; she straightened her back and maintained a tight smile. "I believe we have an arrangement, regarding an exclusive interview focused solely on 'serious' economic and business topics?"
April felt a wave of immense joy rush to her head, almost overwhelming her. She fiercely suppressed the inner storm of ecstasy, using every ounce of her professional training to nod with restrained certainty, her voice ringing out clearly: "Yes, Mr. Hawk. I await your schedule!"
"Very good." Hawk nodded with satisfaction. "Let's arrange it for immediately after the press conference, in the lounge next door. Strictly business."
"Absolutely, Mr. Hawk!" April's voice held an undetectable tremor—the tremor of extreme excitement under rigid self-control.
She had secured the first, and exclusive, interview opportunity with Hawk Lane following his storm-like acquisition of TCRI! Though the scope was limited, this was an enormous professional victory. Her mind immediately began racing through possible questions, determined to seize this once-in-a-lifetime chance.
Hawk gave a final nod to the room and calmly exited the podium, accompanied by Goo Ja-yoon, leaving behind a cacophony of discussion and countless envious gazes directed at April.
April took a deep breath, gathered her equipment, and worked to calm her hammering heart, preparing for what was arguably the most important interview of her young career.
After dismissing the other reporters, Hawk and April moved to the lounge. The door closed, instantly silencing the noise outside.
April sat on the sofa, letting out a long breath and opening her coat. She wore a crisply tailored burgundy silk blouse, unbuttoned at the collar to reveal delicate collarbones. Below that was a short, glossy black skirt that barely contained her sculpted posterior, and two long legs encased in sheer black hosiery, topped by a pair of pointed, knee-high stiletto boots that looked sharp enough to kill.
With the external noise gone, only the low hum of the central air conditioning and the regular flashing red light of the recording pen on the coffee table remained. April sat upright on one end of the sofa, maintaining the posture of an attentive interviewer. She rapidly flipped through her notes, throwing out questions about the TCRI restructuring, compensation details, and Lane Capital's future strategy.
Hawk leaned back on the opposite sofa, utterly relaxed, answering each question clearly and flawlessly.
The only anomaly was his eyes, which occasionally rested on her focused face, and sometimes lingered on the crossed, sheer black-clad calves and the coldly gleaming boots. This was perhaps normal; who could resist that kind of charm? Especially in such a seductive ensemble. The collar of the burgundy silk blouse tantalized him. When she leaned forward to ask a question, the delicate curve of her collarbone, and even the faintest rise of her form beneath the fabric, became vaguely visible.
The recording pen faithfully captured every word of their "serious" business dialogue. Yet, the air in the lounge subtly heated up with every brief pause and every fleeting exchange of glances.
"...So, stabilizing the mood of existing employees and attracting top talent will be the crucial first step in relaunching Lane Bio-Tech." Hawk finished his explanation of his human resource strategy and took a sip of water.
"A very clear approach, Mr. Hawk." April drew the final period on her notepad and closed the elegant leather cover with a soft snap.
She looked up. The professional smile hadn't faded, but deep in her clear blue eyes, something began to burn, carrying a subtle, mischievous challenge.
She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows casually on her knees. This posture further tightened the curve of her skirt-clad hips and brought her striking, black-clad legs and sharp boots even more prominently into Hawk's view. She gently wiggled her toe, the heel scratching faintly against the carpet.
"Business is finished," her voice dropped slightly, no longer the crisp professional tone, but infused with a husky note, like a feather lightly stroking skin. "Mr. Hawk, would you like to... talk about something else?"
Hawk put down the glass, his gaze locked onto her. An invisible string in the air was gently plucked.
"Something else?" he countered, the tail end of his voice lifting with the playfulness of someone who already knows the answer. "Such as? Do you have another exclusive question, Ms. April?"
April didn't answer immediately.
Slowly, with the deliberate grace of presenting a piece of art, she shifted her crossed legs—one foot elegantly placed on the ground, the other leg slightly raised, knee bent, toe lightly tapping the floor. Her body tilted slightly, putting the entire line of her black-hosed leg on display, the skirt's edge creating a suggestive curve from bottom to top.
Her gaze, however, remained fixed on Hawk's face, sharp as a hook.
"Mr. Hawk..." she whispered, her voice even lower now, sounding like she was breathing directly into his ear. "That day I was being hunted, I learned so many of your secrets—the superhero 'King'? Don't you want to know my secrets?"
She unconsciously pressed a fingertip just below her collarbone, a gesture full of ambiguous invitation.
"Hmm?" Hawk registered the effect, straightening slightly as a sign of appreciation.
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