MY SENORITA, MY BIRDIE

The morning sun did not gently wake Angelo. It violently assaulted him. A sharp, rhythmic throb pulsed behind his eyes. This was the clear penalty for a night filled with expensive scotch and reckless choices. At thirty, Angelo was in his prime. He had a sharp, strong jawline, broad shoulders, and effortlessly rumpled hair. These features made him a hazard in any room. At the CJ Industry headquarters, he was a brilliant engineer. In Seoul’s private lounges and nightclubs, he was known as the National Playboy. He stole hearts with a lazy smile and left them broken, without any remorse. He groaned and pressed his palm against his forehead as the room spun. Beside him, the silk sheets shifted. "Princess, get up," Angelo said. His voice was raspy with a cynical, dismissive tone. He did not look at her. "You have to leave. It is morning already." The girl—a stunning, doe-eyed marketing assistant from a subsidiary firm whose name he had forgotten by 2:00 AM—blinked awake. She rubbed her eyes and looked around the minimalist penthouse with awe and hope. "Should I make breakfast for you?" Princess asked softly. A gentle, domestic sweetness entered her voice as she sat up and clutched the duvet to her chest. Angelo paused and slowly turned his head to glare at her. His dark eyes were freezing and completely without the warmth from the night before. "I do not take breakfast, and you do not have to feel burdened," Angelo said. His tone became brutally cold and matter-of-fact. "It was only a one-night stand. You are not allowed to come back here ever again." The words cut through the morning air like a blade. He pulled himself out of bed, unbothered by his nudity, and walked toward the master bathroom. "I do not want to see you on my bed when I get out," he warned over his shoulder in an unfriendly voice. Then he shut the heavy glass door behind him. Left alone in the quiet bedroom, Princess’s face changed from heartbreak to burning humiliation. "He's so rude," she groaned under her breath. She tossed the sheets aside violently. "No sense of care at all. Absolute bastard." She grabbed her rumpled designer clothes, snatched her purse, and slammed the penthouse door on her way out. When the steam from the shower cleared the fog in his brain, Angelo stepped out with a plush towel around his hips. He walked into the sunlit sitting room and poured a tall glass of ice water to fight his dehydration. As he sipped, a flash of color on the balcony tiles caught his eye. He set the glass down and stepped closer to the glass doors. There, shivering and soaked, lay a small, delicate bird. Its feathers were matted against its tiny body. Its chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow breaths. It looked like it had been caught in the heavy rain from the night before. "The rain can be cruel sometimes," Angelo muttered. A slow, naughty smile tugged at his lips as he unlocked the door and stepped into the cool air. "But that is usually the perfect moment to make love..." He knelt beside the creature. Despite his ruthless reputation with women, he showed a strange gentleness to things that could not talk back. "Birdie, I am sorry you got hit by the rain. But being weak like this is what I call spoilt," Angelo said. He tilted his head as if the bird could understand him. "Next time you see clouds gathering, you should find a safe place and hide." He reached out and carefully scooped the fragile bird into his palm. As he brought it inside, a wave of familiarity hit him. He narrowed his eyes and stared at the markings on its wings. But wait a minute, he thought. This bird always visits me. This is not the first time I am seeing you here. Shaking off the strange feeling, he went to the bathroom and grabbed his high-end hair dryer. He set it to the lowest heat and carefully dried the bird’s feathers. The matted down fluffed up into a healthy sheen. The bird did not try to fly away. It simply perched in his palm and stared at him with intelligent obsidian eyes. "Thank goodness you made it," Angelo murmured with a rare, genuine smile. He carried the bird back to the balcony and placed it on a sheltered wooden ledge. "Time to go to work." He yawned, stretched his arms, and went inside to prepare for the corporate battlefield. ~CJ INDUSTRY ~ CJ Industry was a giant in modern engineering. It produced luxury automobiles, heavy machinery, and advanced robotics. The glass-and-steel headquarters always buzzed with high tension. When Angelo arrived in a tailored charcoal suit with an air of nonchalance, the atmosphere changed. "Good morning, Angelo!" a group of female analysts from accounting called out. Their faces lit up as they adjusted their hair. "Good morning, everyone. Looks like I came earlier than expected," Angelo replied. He flashed a dazzling smile that left them whispering as he entered the elevator and headed to his private office. He had barely settled into his leather chair when the door opened without a knock. "Angelo, you are late again," a sharp, condescending voice said. Drake entered, holding a tablet like a weapon. He was in his early thirties, well-dressed, and desperate to surpass Angelo. He saw himself as Angelo’s rival, though Angelo rarely thought of him as an equal. "Do you think this place is one of your nightclubs where you can arrive whenever you want?" Drake asked sarcastically, crossing his arms. Angelo did not look up from his monitor. He shrugged lazily. "You would never know my movements unless you are also a member of those clubs, Drake. And last I checked, you are not my boss. So stop acting like one. Your attitude sucks." Drake’s jaw tightened. "You have not submitted your presentation on the new eco-engine project. The board meeting is in two hours." "I did that right before I came into the office," Angelo lied smoothly. He leaned back and waved his hand dismissively. "Can you leave now? I have a lot on my plate already." "We will see what the chief supervisor says about your timeline," Drake snapped. He spun around and marched out. The moment the door shut, Angelo’s lazy attitude disappeared. He quickly grabbed his phone and opened an encrypted chat with the head of the department. To: Anthony (Chief Supervisor) Anthony, please. Give the usual response if Drake comes looking for my files. I am finalizing the details now. He sent it and a dark, triumphant smirk crossed his face. Drake, you have no idea who you are messing with, he thought. Anthony owed him many favors from past successes. Keeping Drake in a loop was easy. Before he could open the presentation files, the door clicked open again. This time it was not Drake. Princess entered with a mix of resentment and desire in her eyes. Angelo reached over and hit the switch to lower the window blinds. "Princess, what are you doing here?" Angelo asked bluntly. "You can see I am very busy right now." "I did not get enough of you last night," Princess said in a low, seductive voice. She walked around his desk. "How about we go for one round right here?" Before he could protest, she took his hands and placed them on her chest. Then she slid onto his lap. Angelo froze for a second. Now this is my weakness, he admitted. Her boobs are damn soft. His self-control began to fade. "Are you trying to seduce me?" he asked. His fingers tightened gently against her. "Isn’t it working?" Princess whispered. She unbuttoned the top of her shirt.