Chapter 4: Player

The next morning, I got ready and prepared myself for work inside my apartment. I wanted to be early, and I couldn’t help but feel excited to meet my rival, Mr. Cloud Smith. The thought of finally coming face-to-face with him sent a thrill through me.

By the time I arrived at the company, my heart was pounding, but I kept my composure. I walked up to the front desk and asked the staff where the CEO's office was. They pointed me in the right direction, and I took a deep breath before stepping forward.

The moment I entered the office, I froze.

Cloud Smith stood before me, and for a second, I was utterly starstruck. His handsomeness was undeniable, and his masculine posture exuded an air of dominance and power. I was a man, but something about him stunned me into silence. His sharp gaze met mine, and I could feel the weight of his presence.

I quickly shook off the feeling and straightened my posture. I wasn’t here to admire him—I was here to gain the upper hand. But damn, Cloud Smith had an aura that was impossible to ignore.

"You're late," Cloud's voice cut through the air like ice. His piercing gaze remained locked onto me, unwavering and cold.

I swallowed, keeping my voice steady. "Apologies, sir. I was told to report here directly. My name is Clinton, and I will be your bodyguard from now on."

Cloud's lips curled slightly, though there was no amusement in his expression. "Bodyguard? I don’t recall hiring someone who hesitates at the door like a lost puppy."

I forced a polite smile. "I assure you, sir, hesitation is not in my nature. I only take a moment to assess my surroundings."

He leaned back against his desk, arms crossed. "Is that so? Then tell me, Clinton, what did you assess just now?"

I met his gaze, refusing to falter. "The office has two exits, one behind your desk and one near the bookshelf. Security cameras cover all angles except the blind spot by the left window. Your chair is positioned for authority but also vulnerability if someone were to enter from behind. And you, sir, are evaluating me just as much as I am evaluating you."

A brief silence stretched between us before Cloud let out a low hum of approval. "Not bad," he admitted, though his voice remained indifferent. "But I don’t need a bodyguard who talks. I need one who acts."

"Understood, sir. I’ll make sure my actions speak louder than my words."

Cloud pushed off his desk and stepped closer, his presence even more suffocating up close. "You may think you’re here to protect me, but let’s be clear—I'm not the one who needs protecting. If you fail me, Clinton, you will regret ever setting foot in my office. Do I make myself clear?"

I nodded, keeping my posture firm. "Crystal clear, sir."

Cloud studied me for another moment before turning away. "Good. Now get to work. And don’t waste my time."

Just as I was about to step out of the office, Cloud’s voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Get my bag. Carry it."

I stiffened but quickly masked my irritation. I turned to see him standing by his desk, adjusting the cuffs of his expensive suit. His tone wasn’t a request—it was an order.

I clenched my jaw and walked over to the sleek leather bag placed on the table. My fingers twitched as I picked it up. I was a bodyguard, not an assistant, but I forced a polite smile and nodded. "Of course, sir."

Cloud barely acknowledged my response. "Let’s go. Try to keep up."

I followed him down the hallway, gripping the bag tightly as I reminded myself why I was here. Cloud Smith was my ultimate rival for Athena’s heart, and I couldn’t afford to let my emotions get the best of me. This was a game, and I had to play it right.

I needed to gain his trust, no matter how much I hated it.

If I played this right, I could manipulate him, plant the seed of doubt in his mind. Make him believe that meeting Athena might put him in danger. That way, I wouldn’t have to lift a finger—he would step back on his own.

With renewed determination, I straightened my tie and kept pace with him. The game had only just begun.

Cloud led the way down the corridor with effortless confidence, his stride long and purposeful. I kept pace beside him, careful not to let my irritation show. The weight of his leather bag in my grip was a constant reminder of my place here. For now.

We stepped into the elevator, and as the doors closed, the silence between us thickened. Cloud stood beside me, hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the mirrored walls.

I thought he would ignore me completely, but then, without warning, his reflection smirked. "You’re watching me."

I didn’t flinch. "It’s my job to observe, sir."

His smirk widened slightly. "Is that so?"

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to the top floor. Cloud stepped out first, but I barely made it two steps before I caught sight of something that stopped me cold.

Cloud’s office door was slightly ajar. From the angle, I could see inside.

And what I saw made my heart pound.

There, in the dim glow of his private office, stood Cloud Smith—except it wasn’t him. It was a video, playing on a large screen against the far wall.

The real Cloud didn’t move as he watched himself on the screen, his body reclined in his chair, his head tilted back, eyes half-lidded in pleasure. His hand moved over himself in slow, deliberate strokes.

Cloud turned his head slightly, catching my stunned reflection in the glass. His lips curled into something dangerously close to amusement.

"How about you, Clinton?" His voice was low, teasing.

"Do you love playing with yourself? Huh?"