Rion Vale — POV
The hallway hums with quiet efficiency as I walk through it. Workers straighten, bowing with hurried greetings, their scents mixing into a nervous cloud around me. Lee Holdings. The chrome logo glints under the lights—cold, polished, predictable.
Unlike my kitten.
My steps slow as I reach the manager. He bows, hands trembling slightly.
"Sir, Mr. Evan Lee is in his office. Should I inform—"
"No need."
His breath catches. "Y–yes, sir."
I continue forward, already imagining his reaction when he sees me. I want to surprise him—catch him off guard, hold him close, tease him until his cheeks turn red.
I stop before the office door and knock softly.
…No answer.
My hand curls around the handle, turning it slowly. The door opens with a muted click.
And there he is.
My entire world draped across the couch, asleep.
