Felix lounged cross-legged on the plush white velvet sofa, the heavy fabric of his oversized white silk robe pooling around his lean frame. He popped a premium strawberry macaroon into his mouth, his rosy-pink eyes reflecting the sharp neon glow of his smartphone screen.

He lazily scrolled past a hostage notification from Luke regarding his confiscated burgundy jacket, and an essay of frantic text messages from Emily about her crying brothers. His eyes instantly locked onto a glowing confirmation window from his bank application: “Deposit Confirmed: +€5,000,000.00 from Destiano Corp.”

A beautiful, wicked little smirk sliced across his plush, rosy lips. He tapped open his private chat thread with the world-famous tycoon, saving the contact name as "🍰 Pretty Baker Boy (CEO)".

"Five million euros just because his corporate fans are rowdy?" Felix pouted his rosy lips, letting out a cute, amused giggle as his hair swayed smoothly against the silk robe. "Gosh, capitalism really is a beautiful thing. Let's see how much this boyband leader can actually handle."

His slim fingers danced effortlessly across the screen, typing out a ridiculously cute, playfully teasing text message.

Felix's Text to Richard:
"Aw, Mr. Generous CEO! 🥺 You really didn't have to send so many zeros! But my older sister always says it's rude to reject a powerful man's... administrative apology. 😉 Underneath all that scary cold tycoon armor, you're actually a really soft big brother, aren't you? Thank you for the pastry funding! I’ll let you know the next time I have a cake emergency... maybe we can consult over something sweet. Take care of your tie! 🍰✨"

He pressed send, entirely content with the psychological devastation he was about to cause.

Across the city, the atmosphere inside the top-floor executive suite of the Destiano Group headquarters was suffocatingly cold. Richard Destiano sat behind his minimalist glass desk, reviewing an international merger document. His expression was a flawless, icy corporate mask that usually made foreign delegations tremble. His top executives stood around the room in a rigid semi-circle, sweating in absolute fear.

BING.

Richard glared down at his phone. The lock screen preview read: “Pretty Baker Boy (Felix): Aw, Mr. Generous CEO! 🥺...”

The moment Richard tapped the screen and read the full text, his cold corporate mask completely shattered into dust.

A violent, catastrophic crimson blush exploded up his pale neck, turning his entire face, his chiseled cheeks, and the tips of his ears a burning, bright red. His icy blue eyes went completely wide. His hands trembled so violently that his premium gold fountain pen slipped from his fingers, clattering onto the multi-billion-euro contract and leaving a massive, dark ink blot right over the signature line.

"M-Mr. Destiano?!" the head vice president panicked, stepping forward. "Are you alright?! Is it an international market crash?! Should we call the legal department?!"

Richard didn't hear a single word. He frantically grabbed the phone with both hands, clutching the device directly against his chest, his inner Alpha completely collapsing into helpless, love-struck mush as he stared at the little cake emojis on his screen.

"He... he used a winking face..." Richard whispered to himself, his deep voice squeaking out in a completely soft, flustered, and helpless whine. "He told me to take care of my tie... Oh my god, he thinks I’m a soft big brother..."

The executives stared at their ruthless, terrifying CEO blushing like a smitten high schooler, completely convinced he had lost his absolute sanity.

The next day, the text messages had set a completely new plan into motion. Richard did not process the words "send my money properly" as a cheeky request to look over financial investments. His short-circuited mind translated it directly into one single, explosive word: A DATE. He completely ditched his rigid, suffocating corporate suit look, instead choosing an oversized, structured charcoal-gray premium cashmere overcoat casually draped over his broad shoulders. Underneath, he wore a deep V-neck black silk-blend knit sweater that exposed a tantalizing hint of his chest, paired with tailored black trousers. His dark blonde hair was styled in a messy, effortlessly texturized look. He stood directly outside Felix's penthouse door, holding an absolutely massive, breathtakingly structured boutique arrangement of rare, deep-crimson velvet roses clutched tightly in his hand. He looked incredibly sexy.

Taking a deep breath to hide his burning blush, Richard pressed the doorbell.

DING-DONG.

The heavy mahogany door smoothly swung inward. Richard’s breath caught dead in his throat. His icy blue eyes went completely wide, his heart doing a violent football tackle against his ribs.

Felix stepped into the doorway, looking beautifully sexy. He wasn't wearing his standard top-bun or half-up style today; instead, his silky black hair was cut into an adorable, messy undercut wolf-cut that framed his porcelain face. Resting perfectly on top of his black strands was a pair of cute, fluffy dog-eared hair clip-ons that bobbed playfully. He wore a white t-shirt that hung completely off one shoulder, beautifully exposing his pale collarbone and highlighting the distinct, stunning beauty mark resting right at the center of his neck. Below, he wore casual, brown knee-length tailored shorts that showcased his slim, graceful legs.

Felix popped a bubblegum bubble, pouting his plush lips as his fluffy dog ears twitched. "Wow... Look at you, Mr. CEO! No corporate suit today? You look like you're about to walk a high-fashion runway instead of a financial consultation. Are those flowers for Miya, or did you bring them to decorate my lobby? Come on inside, let's go look at my bank drafts!"

Richard just stood there, his face rapidly turning a violent shade of bright, burning red as his eyes locked onto the beauty mark on Felix's exposed neck, completely paralyzed.

They sat down on the white velvet sofa, the laptop resting between them. Felix leaned over, tapping the screen with a slim finger. "Look, Mr. CEO! Since you wired me those five million euros, my bank account is getting way too crowded. We need to pick some spectacular places to visit and spend all this cash right now! What do you think about a private luxury yacht charter around Ibiza? Or maybe a high-fashion shopping spree in Paris? You're the master of spending capital, help me out!"

Richard’s voice was soft and dazed as his eyes remained fixed on Felix. "I-Ibiza... is highly acceptable. Yes. If you require a private yacht, Destiano Enterprises owns a custom 150-foot superyacht permanently docked in the Balearic Islands. I can... officially transfer the maritime title to your name by this afternoon."

SLAM!

The double doors leading to the kitchen corridor flew open with a violent crash. Miya marched into the living room wearing matching pastel-pink silk pajamas with little cartoon croissant prints on them. Her face was a mask of terrifying, cold Alpha fury, and she was aggressively cracking her short leather training whip against her own palm.

"VELVET! You lazy, pampered brat!" Miya screamed comically, her voice booming. "I don't care if you're a legendary genius artist or a multi-million-euro asset! It was your turn to do the kitchen chores, and there is a mountain of flour-covered bowls sitting in my sink! Get your cute butt off that couch right now before I use this whip for target practice—!"

Miya violently froze mid-sentence, the leather whip stopping dead in the air.

As she stepped past the lounge partition, her eyes finally registered that Felix wasn't alone. Sitting right next to her little brother on the velvet sofa was Richard Destiano—looking incredibly sexy in his deep V-neck silk sweater, holding a laptop.

Miya stood paralyzed in the center of the plush living room, her face burning a violent, deep shade of crimson that perfectly matched the little cartoon strawberries on her croissant-patterned silk pajamas. Her assassin composure had completely disintegrated. Frantically, she jammed the leather training whip behind her back, trying to swallow the lump of pure, unadulterated embarrassment in her throat.

"I—I shall excuse myself immediately!" Miya stammered in a high-pitched, completely flustered panic, bowing so rapidly her hair nearly whipped her own eyes. "Please continue your... executive administrative asset mapping! I am going to... wash those flour bowls myself! Have an immaculate consultation, Mr. Destiano!"

She turned on her heel and bolted down the kitchen corridor like a shadow fleeing the light, slamming the double doors behind her with a frantic THUD.

Silence settled back over the velvet sofa.

Richard Destiano sat entirely rigid, his large hands tightly gripping the edges of Felix’s silver laptop. But his brilliant, world-class executive brain wasn't focusing on the digital banking data. Instead, a massive, roaring storm of intense internal monologue was short-circuiting his thoughts.

How... how can that woman treat my beautiful angel like this in his own home?! Richard screamed internally, his icy blue eyes wide with protective, possessive fury as his heart did a chaotic backflip. A whip?! For chores?! Chores?! Since I was a child born into the elite Destiano lineage, I have never once touched a dirty dish in my entire life! The executive estate staff handles everything! My love is a delicate, priceless masterpiece of visual art—his manicured hands shouldn't be scrubbing flour-covered bowls! If he lived in my penthouse, I would hire a dozen five-star French maids just to carry his sketchbooks!

Richard’s gaze secretly drifted sideways, and his internal monologue violently veered off a cliff as a scorching blush rushed back up his neck.

But oh my god... he is just too sexy right now, Richard’s inner Alpha whimpered, his cheeks burning a bright, helpless red. That oversized white t-shirt is hanging so far off his shoulder... I can see his entire pale collarbone. And that beauty mark... that seductive little dot resting right at the center of his throat is practically staring at me. He’s wearing short shorts! I can see his legs! I wish I could grab my cashmere overcoat right now and wrap him up in it completely to cover him up from the rest of the world! But... but that would be rude on a first date. Control yourself, Richard, you are a dignified CEO, do not look at his neck beauty mark—

"Whatever!"

Felix’s melodic voice sharply cut directly through Richard’s frantic, blushing thoughts. Felix let out a cute, lazy little sigh, tossing his messy black wolf-cut layers as his fluffy dog-eared hair clip-ons bobbed playfully. He slammed the silver laptop shut with a decisive CLICK, turning his mesmerizing rosy-pink eyes directly onto the flustered tycoon.

"Forget the dishes, Richard, let's just go spend all this cash right now!" Felix pouted his plush rosy lips, flashing a dazzling, beautifully sexy grin that completely shattered the tycoon’s remaining sanity. "Let's go high-fashion shopping, hit the premium arcade for some gaming, watch an exclusive VIP fashion show, go fine dining at the most expensive restaurant in Madrid, and lastly, buy a brand-new luxury sports car! And of course—our new superyacht boat! Come on, Mr. CEO, let's go paint the town red!"

Felix sprang off the sofa, his fluffy dog ears twitching with excitement as he grabbed Richard’s large hand, entirely oblivious to the fact that his casual use of the word 'our' just made the lovesick billionaire’s heart completely explode with joy!