I lied about my age and ended up in an online relationship with a gorgeous guy six years older than me. I never expected him to be such a walking contradiction. In public, he was cold and aloof, but online, he was completely shameless, whispering the dirtiest things. In his most intense moments, he even told me he wanted to be my puppy, completely at my mercy. Eventually, his clinginess got to be too much for me. The day I broke things off, I blocked him on every single platform. Months later, I was crashing at my best friend’s place when I ran into her older brother. Looking at his detached, utterly cynical face, a strange sense of familiarity hit me. As I stared, my best friend's voice snapped me out of my daze. "Don't bother drooling over him. My brother hates girls who throw themselves at him." "Ever since some girl dumped him online, he’s been in a permanent foul mood. He’d probably kick a puppy if it walked past him." I froze, a sudden chill running down my spine. I couldn't help but test the waters. "So... your brother’s name wouldn't happen to be Atlas, would it?" 1 "Shut up! How on earth did you know that?" My best friend, Cici, gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she stared at me in absolute shock. If I had held onto a tiny shred of hope before asking, it was officially dead now. Not only had my anonymous online ex turned out to be my best friend’s brother, but we had crossed paths again six months after a brutal breakup. The odds of this happening had to be lower than winning the lottery. Before I could panic, Cici waved her hand dismissively, already rationalizing it. "Actually, never mind. We basically share a brain. I must have mentioned his name to you at some point." As she kept ramming on, I stood frozen, my mind racing. The realization that I was currently sharing a roof with Atlas made my heart hammer against my ribs. I couldn't help but recall our encounter an hour ago. When Cici first brought me to her house, Atlas had just descended the stairs. He was wearing a silk robe, the faint outline of veins tracing up his neck. There was an effortless, aristocratic elegance to him, mixed with a sleepy, dangerous kind of sex appeal. I had stared at him, feeling an inexplicable pull of familiarity. But when Atlas looked at me, he merely offered a cold, polite nod. His dark, aloof eyes swept over me without a single flicker of emotion, treating me as nothing more than his little sister's random college friend. I never could have connected this incredibly proper, high-society man with the wild, shameless guy I dated online. Online Atlas was a menace. He talked dirty without a shred of hesitation, calling me his baby and his girl every five minutes, his possessiveness practically dripping through the screen. Back then, I was young and completely naive about relationships. He used to fluster me so badly that I’d have to get out of bed in the middle of the night just to splash cold water on my face. I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice casual. "So, has your brother dated many people before?" Cici let out a soft laugh. "Just one, and it was entirely online. Honestly, I think he fell hard. He was head over heels for her, but the girl dumped him out of nowhere. Cut him off completely." She sighed, shaking her head. "His temper has been absolutely miserable for the last six months." She patted my shoulder reassuringly. "If he acts like a jerk while you're staying here, don't take it personally. He hates everyone equally these days." 2 The next morning, Cici’s mother called us down for breakfast. Atlas was already sitting across from me at the dining table. He moved with an effortless, aristocratic grace, using his fork and knife with slow, deliberate precision. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't stop my eyes from drifting toward him. Almost instantly, as if sensing my gaze, Atlas looked up. Our eyes locked, and he arched an eyebrow in mild amusement. My heart did a violent flip. Even after I hurriedly looked down, I could still feel his dark eyes burning into me, refusing to let me go. "Daisy, sweetheart, try the French toast. It's my specialty," Cici’s mother, Mrs. Sheng, said warmly, bringing me back to reality. I had always been good at pleasing adults. With a few sweet compliments, I had Mrs. Sheng beaming and laughing in no time. "Just make yourself at home these next few days. Don't be shy about anything," she insisted. "Thank you, Mrs. Sheng," I smiled. I comforted myself with the thought that even if we were staying under the same roof, there was no way Atlas could connect me to his online ex. My anxiety was probably unnecessary. I just needed to act natural. Gradually, the conversation shifted toward Atlas. From what Mrs. Sheng was saying, she had recently set him up with a girl from another prominent family. But Atlas’s responses remained entirely cold and detached. "Mom, I told you I'm not interested," he said, his voice smooth but firm. "I've only met her twice. I barely even remember what she looks like. What do you expect me to say?" Mrs. Sheng rolled her eyes, putting her fork down with a heavy sigh. "You reject every single girl I introduce to you. I don't know when that stubborn head of yours is going to wake up. You're in your mid-twenties, you don't date, and honestly, sometimes I wonder if there’s something wrong with you." Cici let out a sudden snort next to me, her shoulders shaking as she tried to suppress her laughter. "Mom, I can guarantee there is absolutely nothing wrong with his preferences," Cici chimed in, raising three fingers in a mock solemn vow. "He’s just had a rocky road in love. The girl he’s waiting for is just a bit of a flighty wild card, that's all." Mrs. Sheng shot her a warning glare. I, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to bury my face in my plate. I kept completely silent, praying they wouldn't drag me into it. But of course, fate had other plans. "Daisy." Atlas’s cool, deep voice sliced through the chatter. I jumped, nearly dropping my fork. It was just a simple pronunciation of my name, but the vibration of his voice sent an involuntary shiver straight down my spine. Before I could process why I was reacting this way, his dark eyes fixed on me, filled with an unreadable, probing intensity. "Why do you look so guilty?" he asked softly. "Did you do something you shouldn't have?" My brain stalled. My cheeks went pale, and I had absolutely no idea how to respond. Fortunately, Mrs. Sheng stepped in to rescue me. "Don't be rude, Atlas. Daisy is our guest. Don't intimidate her." Cici laughed, completely oblivious to the tension. "Wow, look at that. I only mentioned Daisy's name once, and you already remembered it." Amidst the teasing, I kept my head down, missing the way Atlas’s eyes narrowed slightly as he watched me. 3 Cici ended up catching a mild fever after breakfast, so she took some medicine and went upstairs to sleep. I spent the morning doing some practice exams. When I went downstairs to grab a glass of water, I saw Mrs. Sheng putting on her coat, preparing to head out. Out of politeness, I asked where she was going. "It's that boy of mine," Mrs. Sheng said, offering a helpless smile. "Atlas left for the office in such a hurry that he forgot his quarterly reports. I need to drop them off at his office. I don't know what's gotten into him today. He's usually never this careless." My hands moved faster than my brain. Almost instinctively, I grabbed her arm before she could open the door. "Why don't I go instead, Mrs. Sheng? You should stay and rest." "Oh, I couldn't possibly ask you to do that," she replied, startled. I smiled and shook my head. "It's really no trouble. Honestly, I'm just looking for an excuse to get some fresh air." If I had one strong suit, it was knowing how to be a helpful guest. Since my family lived in a different city, Mrs. Sheng had been incredibly generous in letting me stay here. I felt guilty just lounging around without contributing. Unable to argue with my persistence, Mrs. Sheng eventually yielded and sent the office address to my phone. Settling into the back of a cab, I couldn't resist searching Atlas’s name online. The public profile of him was remarkably consistent: ruthless in business, decisive, and entirely unyielding. It was almost impossible to associate a man like that with online dating. When we first met, I was a senior in high school, dealing with my parents' sudden divorce. Life was overwhelming, and I turned to online gaming to escape the stress. That was where I met him. I figured an online relationship was harmless. It gave me a quick dose of dopamine to keep me going. But for safety, I lied about my age, claiming I had just graduated from college, and I never used my real name. Unlike most online couples, I never sent photos. Whenever he tried to video call, I declined. The only thing I agreed to was a strict thirty-minute voice call every night. Despite my rigid rules, Atlas spoiled me completely. He constantly tried to send me money and shared every detail of his day, no matter how trivial. Whenever I saw the absurdly large transfers he tried to send, I immediately returned them. I was only looking for emotional support. Since I knew we had no future, I wasn't about to take his money. But over time, Atlas became incredibly attached. One day, he suddenly demanded we meet in person. At that point, my final exams were only two weeks away. Meeting up was out of the question. After thinking it over for a long night, I sent him a cold message: There's no point in us meeting. I'm getting bored of this. Let's end it. Right after hitting send, I blocked and deleted him everywhere, leaving absolutely no trace. I had assumed that after so much time, a man of his stature would have forgotten about a brief digital fling. But from the way Cici talked, it seemed he still carried the scar. 4 This was my first time visiting Atlas’s workplace. As the receptionist guided me toward the private elevator to the top floor, she casually mentioned that he owned the entire building. No wonder he used to throw money around so easily back then. The wealth gap between us was staggering. Ding. The elevator doors slid open, and my eyes locked with Atlas's. Standing against the bright floor-to-ceiling windows, his sharp features looked exceptionally striking. The sheer authority he exuded caught my breath. He seemed to have just wrapped up a meeting. A group of senior executives, all much older than him, followed behind him, yet none of them could match his presence. He was a natural-born leader. The hallway fell quiet. A few executives glanced between us, their eyes filled with quiet curiosity. "Mr. Sheng, who is this?" one of them asked, his tone laced with subtle intrigue. Atlas’s dark eyes rested on me for a fraction of a second. Then, without a word, he stepped forward, subtly shielding me from their prying gazes. "A friend," he answered smoothly. I blinked, slightly startled. Why friend? Why not his sister's classmate? "Mr. Sheng, this lady brought the documents you left behind," the receptionist explained. Atlas gave a brief nod. "Understood. Take her to my office first." He pressed the elevator button, clearly still occupied with work. I bit my lip, thinking quickly. I decided to hand the folder straight to the receptionist. "Since the documents are delivered, I'll head out. Don't let me disrupt your work." But as I turned to leave, a firm grip caught my wrist. Atlas held my arm, his voice dropping to a low, quiet register. "Did I say you could leave?" My steps halted. Because of the proximity, the scent of him washed over me, a clean, crisp fragrance of pine and cold winter air. I couldn't move. The place where his fingers brushed against my skin felt warm and tingling, sending a strange shiver through me. He let out a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh. "Go wait in my office. I need to talk to you." 5 I had no idea what Atlas wanted to discuss. As far as he was concerned, our only connection was his sister. His unusual behavior was starting to make me incredibly nervous. By the time his assistant came in to refresh my coffee for the third time, my anxiety had peaked. Just then, the heavy double doors pushed open. Atlas walked in, the coldness in his eyes softening slightly the moment he saw me sitting on the sofa. He walked straight toward me. "Mr. Sheng," I said, standing up quickly, feeling incredibly out of place. For some reason, a shadow passed over his dark eyes, though it vanished just as quickly. "Sit," he said softly. "You don't work for me. You don't need to call me that." His office was massive, but being alone with him made the space feel incredibly small. I cleared my throat, testing the waters. "So... is there something you needed me for?" "Do you have your phone on you?" he asked, ignoring my question with an air of quiet authority. I blinked, nodding slowly. "Let's exchange contact details. I'll venmo you for your travel expenses." My jaw nearly dropped. Was a powerful CEO really handling a simple cab fare reimbursement personally? "No, really, that's not necessary," I said, shaking my head. "It was just a quick ride. Besides, I'm staying at your place rent-free anyway." "Those are two different things," Atlas countered, his gaze fixed on me. He tapped his fingers slowly against his desk. "I don't like owing people favors." I opened my mouth to decline again, but a sudden thought made me freeze. Why was he being so incredibly persistent? Could he actually suspect something? As his sister's college friend, there was absolutely no logical reason for him to demand my contact details. The only explanation was that he had a suspicion. I forced myself to stay calm. There's no way, I told myself. I left zero clues. How could he possibly suspect me? As I opened my messaging app to display my QR code, I noticed his fingers tremble slightly. It was as if he were holding his breath, desperately hoping for something. But the moment he scanned it, his expression froze. He stared at his screen for what felt like an eternity, even going so far as to scroll through my public posts. Eventually, the tension drained out of his shoulders, and he let out a slow, deflated breath. I quietly exhaled. The only reason I had agreed to let him scan my code so easily was because I had completely abandoned my old social media account after graduation. My current profile looked entirely different from my old one. There was nothing here that could link me to his ex. Still, seeing that his profile picture was still the matching couple's icon we had chosen together, a dull ache bloomed in my chest. We had been apart for six months, and he hadn't even bothered to change it. The silence in the office grew heavy and suffocating. Atlas looked up at me, his voice raw. "Is there really nothing you want to tell me?" "No," I replied, forcing a polite, empty smile as I stood up. "It's getting late. I should probably get going." If I stayed any longer, I was going to crack. "Wait," his voice called out from behind me, sending a sudden shiver down my spine. He rubbed his temples, looking exhausted. "I'll have my driver take you back." 6 The amount Atlas sent me for "cab fare" was enough to cover my transportation for an entire month. I ended up keeping it, realizing that arguing over it would only make things awkward, and a sum like that was pocket change to him anyway. Still, every interaction with him left me incredibly wound up. When I had walked out of his office, the eyes of the entire top floor had been glued to me. I had even overheard a few staff members whispering, speculating about my relationship with their notorious boss. That gossip was a cold splash of reality. He was Atlas Sheng. He was used to being respected, pursued, and admired. A man like him would never tolerate being lied to and played. Since I couldn't handle the consequences of being exposed, my only option was to keep the secret buried forever. By the time I pulled myself out of my thoughts, the car had already entered the private residential estate. For the next two days, Atlas didn't return home. Mrs. Sheng mentioned he owned several apartments closer to downtown and rarely stayed at the main estate during the busy season. Not having to face him was a massive relief. With Cici fully recovered from her fever, she was practically climbing the walls with cabin fever. "Daisy, it's Brody's birthday today," she said, leaning against my desk. "A bunch of our old high school friends are getting together tonight. Want to come with?" Brody was a mutual friend of ours from high school who ended up going to the same university as us. We ran in the same social circles. Thinking a night out would help clear my head, I agreed. The sun was just beginning to set when we left the estate. We met up with the group outside a restaurant in a trendy downtown plaza. Brody and the others were already waiting by the entrance, laughing and talking. When Brody spotted me, his eyes visibly brightened. "Daisy! I told you guys you didn't have to bring gifts." I smiled, handing him a neatly wrapped box. "Not a chance. You got me such an expensive gift for my birthday. If I didn't return the gesture, I wouldn't be able to sleep at night." I had picked out a classic watch for him. Brody took it, a brief, slightly disappointed expression crossing his face before he quickly masked it. "You really never let me do anything nice for you, do you? Always keeping score." I offered a polite smile, pretending not to understand the underlying meaning in his words. Suddenly, Cici draped an arm over my shoulder, looking between Brody and me with a mischievous grin. "So, Brody, whose gift do you like more? Mine or Daisy's?" The group burst into quiet, teasing laughter. Brody’s ears flushed deep crimson, and he kept stealing glances at me. Before he could find his voice, Cici gave a knowing nod. "Right, right, I get it. Our Daisy always knows exactly what you like." I nudged Cici in the ribs with my elbow, dragging her toward the entrance while keeping my voice down. "You know I don't feel that way about Brody. Stop teasing like that. What if he takes it seriously?" Seeing how flustered I was, Cici giggled. "Honestly, Brody is cute, and he's totally devoted to you. Why don't I like him?" Her question caught me off guard. For a split second, Atlas's cold, handsome face flashed in my mind, causing me to shake my head violently. "Feelings aren't a math equation," I muttered. "If the spark isn't there, you can't force it." Seeing how resistant I was, Cici squeezed my arm. "Okay, okay, I'll stop playing matchmaker. I promise."
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