The Offer

My Top Husband

Episode 2

The car ride was tense, filled with a silence that felt heavier with each passing second. The city lights blurred outside the tinted windows, the hum of the engine the only sound between them. Trip stole a glance at Sanzo, who remained focused on the road, his expression unreadable.

For someone who had nearly run him over, Sanzo was oddly calm. Trip, on the other hand, wasn’t one to sit quietly.

"So," Trip finally spoke, smirking, "do you always pick up random guys off the street, or am I just lucky?"

Sanzo didn’t even glance at him. "You’re an inconvenience. That’s all."

Trip let out a mock gasp. "Ouch. That’s cold, even for a businessman like you."

Sanzo arched a brow. "Businessman?"

Trip grinned, tapping the sleek dashboard. "Come on. Luxury car, custom interior, expensive suit? You’ve got rich guy written all over you. My guess? CEO."

Sanzo remained quiet for a moment, as if debating whether to respond. Then he gave a slight nod. "You’re not as clueless as you look."

"Gee, thanks," Trip said dryly, rolling his eyes.

The car slowed as they pulled up to a towering glass building, its pristine exterior reflecting the city lights. Trip frowned.

"Uh… this isn’t my place," he said, shifting uncomfortably.

"I know," Sanzo replied smoothly as he parked.

Trip eyed him suspiciously. "Okay, so are you kidnapping me? Because I was totally kidding about that earlier, but now I’m starting to wonder."

Sanzo exhaled sharply, his patience thinning. Instead of answering, he reached into the backseat and picked up something—Trip’s sketchbook.

"You’re an artist," Sanzo stated, flipping through the pages.

Trip’s eyes widened. "Whoa, whoa—ever heard of privacy, Sanzo?" He snatched the sketchbook from Sanzo’s hands, hugging it protectively.

Sanzo ignored his protest. "Your work is decent."

Trip narrowed his eyes. "Decent? Wow, high praise coming from Mr. Corporate."

Sanzo leaned back against his seat. "My company is hiring an illustrator. The pay is good. Are you interested?"

Trip blinked. "What?" He stared at Sanzo as if he’d grown a second head. "You’re offering me a job? Just like that?"

Sanzo didn’t flinch. "I don’t waste time. Your art has potential, and my company needs talent."

Trip opened his mouth, then closed it, trying to process what was happening. He had spent the last few weeks struggling to land freelance gigs, barely scraping by on commission work. And now, out of nowhere, this ridiculously rich CEO—who had nearly run him over—was offering him a stable job?

"Okay, hold up," Trip said, raising a hand. "You don’t even know me. I could be a total slacker. Why take the risk?"

Sanzo met his gaze, his dark eyes cool and calculating. "I trust my judgment."

Trip studied him, still trying to figure him out. This guy was unreadable—cold, direct, and not the type to hand out favors.

Trip did need the money. His rent was overdue, and his last freelance gig barely covered his groceries. A stable job sounded tempting.

But working under this guy? That was a whole different challenge.

A slow grin spread across Trip’s face. "Alright, Mr. CEO. I’ll take the job." He leaned closer. "But don’t expect me to be some obedient little office drone."

Sanzo’s lips twitched, almost amused. "Likewise. Don’t expect special treatment just because I offered."

Trip chuckled, crossing his arms. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."

Sanzo didn’t respond. Instead, he simply unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his door. "Be at the office tomorrow at 9 AM. Don’t be late."

Trip sighed dramatically. "Ugh, mornings. Fine, fine. But if I fall asleep at my desk, it’s your fault."

Sanzo didn’t dignify that with a response.

As Trip stepped out of the car, he glanced up at the massive building before him. His life had just taken an unexpected turn, and something told him that working under Sanzo was going to be anything but ordinary.

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