No one had ever said it to him so plainly before.
Seram reached over, tugging lightly at Silke's seatbelt.
"Come on" he said, voice softening slightly.
"Let's get to work before I throw away the whole day just staring at you."
Silke gave a shaky little laugh despite himself and unbuckled, letting Seram help him out of the car.
As they crossed the garage toward the private elevator, Silke walked a little closer to Seram's side than he usually would, not quite close to them touching, but near enough that Seram noticed.
Seram didn't comment, just slipped his hand into his pocket like he hadn't just memorized the warmth of Silke's presence beside him.
The elevator dinged open, and the moment the doors slid apart on the executive floor, chaos awaited them.
A frantic-looking secretary stumbled forward, clutching a tablet, her hair slightly scattered.
"P-President Seram! T-there's a slight situation—"
Seram arched a brow coolly, stepping out with a dangerous calm.
"What kind of situation?" he asked, already radiating that sharp, commanding energy that made employees straighten up just by being near him.
The secretary swallowed visibly and held out the tablet with trembling hands
.
"Um, it's… well, the delegation from Icarus Industries arrived two hours early and they're demanding to see you right now. And the conference room wasn't ready yet, and, um, Ms. Yeon accidentally spilled coffee on one of their suits…"
A vein twitched at Seram's temple.
Silke, standing beside him, simply looked amused, hands tucked casually into the pockets of his slacks.
Seram took the tablet, scanning the details, and sighed.
"Of course they would pull this crap today."
He handed the tablet back and adjusted his gloves with a sharp, precise tug.
"Tell them I'll be there in five minutes. And send Yeon to HR for emergency retraining."
"Yes, sir!" The secretary bowed and rushed off, nearly tripping over herself.
Seram shook his head slightly, muttering under his breath.
"I leave for one day and the whole place turns into a circus…"
Silke smiled faintly and stepped closer, voice low enough that only Seram could hear:
"Looks like your second family needs a little supervision."
Seram gave him a sidelong glance, his lips curling into a smirk.
"Good thing I brought you along, then."
Without another word, he set off down the hallway with that same confident, predatory stride, Silke falling into step beside him.
They approached the conference room, the heavy oak doors already slightly ajar.
Voices buzzed from inside, sharp, clipped, the unmistakable edge of people trying to play polite while seething underneath.
Seram paused just outside the doors. He slipped his sunglasses off with one gloved hand, tucking them neatly into his jacket pocket.
His eyes were cold now, gleaming with that ruthless intelligence that had built an empire from nothing.
Beside him, Silke straightened his cuffs lazily, his presence smooth and self-assured a silent warning to anyone smart enough to notice it.
"You ready?" Seram asked, his voice low, almost conversational.
Silke smirked faintly. "Lead the way, boss."
Seram pushed the doors open with a deliberate shove not enough to be rude, but enough that the thud echoed pointedly through the room.
Conversations cut off mid-sentence. Every head turned toward them.
The Icarus delegation sat around the long, gleaming table, their suits expensive, their expressions careful masks of diplomacy.
At the head of the group sat Ravel, his hands folded neatly, but his eyes glinting with something darker, ambition, and something dangerously close to contempt.
Seram walked in without breaking stride, his polished shoes clicking against the floor, his presence filling the room with an effortless dominance.
Silke followed just half a step behind, his aura cool and impenetrable, like a blade sheathed at Seram's side.
Ravel rose, smiling that thin, predatory smile. "President Seram. Thank you for—"
"Save it," Seram said, voice sharp as a whip crack.
He moved to the head of the table, didn't sit, just placed both gloved hands on the glossy surface and leaned in slightly, his gaze sweeping the room like a king surveying a battlefield.
"You don't come into my company two hours early. You don't barge past my staff. And you sure as hell don't throw your weight around like you own the place."
The room stayed silent the Icarus team too stunned, or too calculating, to immediately reply.
Silke, behind him, let his energy pulse once a subtle ripple of authority that had several members of the delegation unconsciously straightening in their seats.
It wasn't even overt pressure just a quiet reminder that Seram was not standing alone.
Ravel finally chuckled, low and patronizing.
"Forgive us," he said smoothly. "We were simply eager to move things forward. Icarus Industries values efficiency surely Kyuha Enterprise does too?"
Seram smiled then a slow, cold smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Oh, we value efficiency." His voice dropped slightly. "We just don't value rats."
You could practically hear the collective breath the room held.
Ravel's smile twitched, the veneer of politeness slipping just a fraction.
Before he could retort, Seram pushed off the table and stood tall, his energy shifting not just a CEO now, but something more dangerous, something that had clawed its way up from nothing and never once been tamed.
"If you think you can steal my tech, harass my staff, and threaten my suppliers into cutting ties" Seram said, his voice soft but cutting like a scalpel "then you severely underestimated who you're dealing with."
One of the younger Icarus delegates, looking slightly green, shifted nervously.
Silke watched, amused the tension in the room was perfectly balanced on a knife's edge.
"We came here in good faith—" Ravel tried again, but Seram cut him off with a low laugh.
"You came here" Seram said, tilting his head slightly, "because you're desperate. Because your projections are crashing. Because your investors are breathing down your necks and you think you can bully your way out of it."
He stepped forward once just a single step and the whole room felt it, the pressure rising.
It wasn't just his natural charisma. It was the power coiled under his skin, restrained but present, a subtle crackle like the air before a lightning strike.
"If you want a fight," Seram said, voice velvet-wrapped steel, "then I'll give you one."
Silke, still behind him, allowed himself a small, satisfied smile.
God, he thought, watching Seram's back, he knew even before he became an Esper, this is why no one can touch him.
Ravel's face hardened, but he forced a thin, diplomatic smile.
"No need for hostility," he said, voice tight.
"We'll… reconsider the terms we proposed."
"You'll do more than reconsider," Seram said smoothly, tugging his gloves tighter. "You'll crawl and if you want me to save your asses"
And then, with the casual finality of a man who didn't need to raise his voice to own the room, Seram turned his back on them and strode toward the door.
"Meeting's over." he called over his shoulder.
Silke gave the delegation a cool, almost lazy glance before following him out, the doors closing behind them with a decisive thud.
The moment they were in the hallway, Seram blew out a breath, tugging his tie loose.
Silke chuckled low under his breath. "That was almost hot."
Seram flashed him a wolfish grin, rolling his shoulders. "Only almost?"
Silke shook his head, smiling despite himself.
"You're dangerous, Seram."
Seram smirked, tilting his head as he walked.
"You haven't even seen me at my worst yet."
Silke hummed, matching his pace easily.
"Looking forward to it."