Corporate Villainy: Trampling Protagonists as a Business Dad

The morning sun filtered through the mansion's floor-to-ceiling windows, casting golden rays across the luxurious living room. Vincent sat in the center of the plush sectional sofa, his expensive casual wear—a silk black shirt and tailored slacks—making him look effortlessly elegant even in relaxation.

Helena curled against his left side like a contented cat, her hazelnut hair spilling over his shoulder as she traced lazy patterns on his chest. On his right, Olivia sat with proper posture despite the casual setting, her hands folded in her lap, still adjusting to this new dynamic between them.

"Sir, would you like me to prepare some coffee?" Olivia asked softly, starting to rise.

Vincent's hand gently caught her wrist, pulling her back down. "What did I tell you about calling me 'sir'?"

Olivia's cheeks flushed pink as she looked down at her hands. "I... Vincent," the name came out barely above a whisper, making her face burn with embarrassment.

Helena giggled, finding Olivia's shyness absolutely endearing. "Oh my, you're adorable when you blush like that."

Vincent couldn't resist. The sight of that cold and confident secretary saying his name with such shy sweetness melted him. Without warning, he pulled her closer, wrapping his free arm around her and drawing her against his chest.

"V-Vincent!" Olivia gasped, her head instinctively dropping as she tried to hide her crimson face.

"Better," he murmured against her hair, his voice warm with affection.

Emily watched this display from the adjacent armchair, her mouth hanging open slightly. This is too much, she thought, feeling heat creep up her own neck. I'm like the third.. no fourth wheel on a tricycle here. Actually, can you even have a fourth wheel on that? Whatever, this is awkward.

"What movie should we watch?" Helena suggested, reaching for the remote while still nestled against Vincent's side. "Something fun and light?"

"Anything is fine with me." Vincent waved his hand

Helena scrolled through the options. "How about an action thriller? Nothing says relaxation like watching other people's problems explode."

As the opening credits rolled, Vincent's hand absently stroked Olivia's hair. She had never experienced anything like this—being held so tenderly, being wanted not for what she could do but simply for who she was. After years of believing she was destined to love Vincent from afar, the reality of his arms around her felt like living in a dream.

The movie played on the massive screen, but Olivia found herself completely distracted by Vincent's gentle touches. His fingers combed through her dark hair with hypnotic rhythm, occasionally brushing against her neck in ways that sent shivers down her spine. When Helena shifted to whisper something in Vincent's ear, Olivia couldn't help but steal glances at their easy intimacy.

Helena's lips curved into a knowing smile as she pressed a soft kiss to Vincent's jawline, her hand sliding across his chest with possessive familiarity. "This movie is boring," she murmured, loud enough for everyone to hear. "I can think of better entertainment."

Vincent chuckled, his free hand coming up to cup Helena's face as he kissed her properly. It was a deep, languid kiss that made Olivia's stomach flutter with a mixture of jealousy and desire. She tried to look away but found herself mesmerized by the tender way Vincent held Helena, wondering what it would feel like to be kissed like that.

Emily made exaggerated gagging sounds from her chair. "Tch, get a room, you two. I am trying to watch a movie people worked hard on."

"Jealous?" Helena teased, breaking the kiss but staying close enough that her lips brushed Vincent's when she spoke.

"Of what? Vincent's obvious favoritism?" Emily shot back, then immediately regretted it when Vincent's amused gaze turned her way.

"Careful, little sister," Vincent said with mock severity. "I might decide you need some attention too."

Emily's face went bright red as she sank deeper into her chair. "I take it back. Ignore me. I'm invisible."

Olivia couldn't suppress a small laugh at Emily's panic, which earned her Vincent's full attention. He turned slightly, his hand moving from her hair to cup her cheek with devastating gentleness.

"And what about you?" he asked softly, his thumb tracing her lower lip. "Do you want my attention too?"

The question hung in the air like a challenge. Olivia's green eyes widened, her breath catching as Vincent's intense gaze held hers. She managed the smallest nod, and Vincent rewarded her bravery with a tender kiss to her forehead that somehow felt more intimate to her than Helena's passionate display moments before.

Her mind drifted to their shared past. Six years of professional distance, of stolen glances and buried feelings. She remembered the nights she'd cried herself to sleep, convinced she was foolish for loving a man so far above her station.

Now here she was, exactly where her heart had always belonged.

"Gosh Olivia," Helena's playful voice brought her back to the present. "You're smiling like you won the lottery."

"I... I think I did," Olivia whispered, not caring how sentimental it sounded.

Vincent tightened his hold on both women, feeling more content than he had since coming to this world. The corporate war could wait. Schemes against protagonists could wait. Right now, this moment was the best.

Two hours later, as the credits rolled on their second movie, Vincent stretched languidly. "I think it's time I took my secretary out for a proper evening."

Helena pouted prettily. "What about me?"

"You, can find someone to tease. You know what I mean?"

Helena's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Oh, I have an idea."

Emily felt a chill run down her spine as Helena's gaze lingered on her with predatory interest. Why do I suddenly feel like prey? she wondered, scooting deeper into her chair.

"Emily, dear," Helena purred, "why don't you keep me company while they're gone? We can have our own fun."

I'm don't wanna, I really don't wanna, Emily thought, but nodded weakly.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

By evening, Vincent had transformed into the epitome of sophisticated charm. His midnight blue suit was perfectly tailored, his hair styled to casual perfection. He waited at the bottom of the grand staircase as Olivia descended, and when his eyes found her, a slow smile spread across his face.

She wore an elegant blue dress that complemented her hair beautifully, the silk fabric hugging her curves in ways that made Vincent's pulse quicken. Her usually conservative style was replaced with something that showed her natural grace and beauty. Her black hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, and for once, she looked like the stunning woman she truly was rather than hiding behind professional modesty.

"Beautiful, let's go on a date." Vincent chuckled, his voice warm with genuine appreciation as he took her hand.

Olivia blushed but didn't resist his pull.

The evening was pure magic. Vincent had reserved the entire top floor of the city's most exclusive restaurant, complete with a private chef and panoramic views of the glittering cityscape. They talked about everything and nothing—her dreams, his plans, shared memories from their years of working together.

"I used to practice conversations with you," Olivia admitted over dessert, wine making her brave enough for honesty. "In my apartment mirror. I'd imagine you asking about my weekend plans or complimenting a report I'd written."

Vincent reached across the table, taking her hand. "What did imaginary me say?"

"That you... that you noticed me as more than just your secretary," she whispered. "That maybe someday..."

"Someday is today," Vincent said softly. "It's been today for longer than you know."

After dinner, they strolled through the city's luxurious shopping district. Vincent insisted on buying her everything that caught her eye—designer shoes, elegant jewelry, silk scarves. But it was at the intimate boutique that Olivia's wine-influenced courage finally peaked.

The shop was discreet and elegant, filled with the kind of lingerie that cost more than most people's monthly salary. Olivia's face burned as she browsed the delicate pieces, her fingers trembling as she touched the silk and lace.

"V-Vincent," she stammered, her face burning as she held up a delicate black negligee with trembling fingers. The fabric was see through, so sheer it was barely there, all silk and shadow. "D-Do you think... would you like..."

Vincent surprised by her boldness stepped closer, his voice dropping to that low tone that made her knees weak. "I think you would look absolutely perfect in that. Or better yet," his eyes became intense with unmistakable hunger, "nothing at all."

Olivia's breath hitched, her wine-influenced boldness making her feel reckless and alive. "Then... then I'll take it."

The shopkeeper wrapped their purchases discretely while Vincent watched Olivia with predatory intensity. The knowledge that she'd chosen something so intimate specifically for him made his blood run hot.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

They ended up at the Royal Suite of the Grandeur Hotel, the city's most prestigious establishment. In the elevator, Olivia's liquid courage and the weight of Vincent's heated stares throughout the evening finally gave her the push she needed.

"Vincent," she whispered, turning to face him in the confined space.

"Yes, Olivia?" he brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear.

The action undid her drunken self completely. She pressed herself against him, her hands fisting in his suit jacket as she looked up at him with eyes bright with wine and desire.

"K-Kiss me. Please."

Vincent's control snapped. His hands framed her face as he captured her lips in a kiss that was everything she'd dreamed of and more. Soft at first, then deeper as Olivia melted against him, six years of suppressed longing pouring into the connection between them.

The elevator climbed higher, but neither of them noticed. Vincent's hands slid down to her waist, pulling her closer as Olivia's fingers tangled in his hair. She tasted like wine and sweetness, and Vincent found himself drowning in her soft gasps and eager responses.

The elevator chimed softly as it reached the top floor, the doors sliding open to reveal the opulent royal suite beyond. The entire floor was theirs—a sprawling space of marble and gold, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering city.

Without breaking their kiss, Vincent swept Olivia into his arms, carrying her across the threshold as she gasped breathlessly against his mouth. Her arms wound around his neck, holding him close as he navigated through the luxurious living area toward the master bedroom.

"Are you sure?" he asked against her lips, his voice rough with barely contained desire.

Olivia looked up at him with eyes full of love and trust. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

Vincent's control slipped another notch. He pressed hot kisses along her jawline, making her gasp and arch against him. His lips found the sensitive spot behind her ear, and when he bit down gently, Olivia's soft moan nearly undid him completely.

"Vincent," she breathed, her voice thick with need. The sensation of his mouth on her neck, the way he held her like she was precious and desired, was already pushing her toward a pleasure she'd only imagined. Her body trembled in his arms, overwhelmed by sensations she'd never experienced.

He carried her into the opulent bedroom, the city lights casting them in silver and shadow. The door closed behind them with a soft click, sealing them in their private paradise high above the world, where nothing existed but Vincent's hands and mouth and the six years of longing finally being fulfilled.