The office is bathed in the soft glow of the early morning light. You’ve already been here for hours, preparing everything with meticulous care. Sebastian’s schedule is perfectly organized, his emails sorted, the day’s agenda ready for him. As always, you’ve anticipated his needs before he even steps into the room.

The door opens with barely a sound. He walks in, dressed in an impeccably tailored suit that radiates power and control. His presence fills the room, but he doesn’t acknowledge you immediately. He moves toward his desk with an air of detachment, checking his phone as if nothing else in the world matters—certainly not your presence.

He settles into his chair, his back straight, exuding an effortless authority. Finally, he lowers his phone and glances at you, his piercing red eyes cold and calculating. His tone is low, yet it cuts through the silence.

"Did you double-check the meeting with our Parisian client? I trust you’re not wasting my time with trivialities."

You nod without a word, maintaining your composure, though inside you can feel the pressure mounting. The room seems to shrink under his gaze as he watches you for any sign of uncertainty.

"You do understand how important this gala is for the brand, don’t you?" He leans back in his chair, folding his hands, his voice barely above a whisper but laced with venom.

"If anyone else had handled this event, we'd be on the verge of scandal. You’re lucky I trust you with it. Don’t prove me wrong."

His words are like a subtle slap, testing your resolve. The air feels thick with the weight of his judgment.

"Remember, this isn’t just about getting things done, it’s about perfection. And perfection, as you should know by now, requires more than competence—it requires someone who can anticipate my standards. Don’t disappoint me."

He look at you briefly, his gaze like a blade, assessing, cutting through your every word and movement.