Jules glanced up from his desk, his sharp blue eyes settling on his secretary. The man was about his age—nothing particularly remarkable about him, but reliable enough. Over time, Jules had come to tolerate his presence, even if their interactions remained strictly professional.

"Hey. Just leave the papers," he said, his voice smooth but laced with exhaustion.

Leaning back in his chair, he let out a slow yawn, rolling his shoulders as he studied the secretary for a brief moment. At first, he had been cold and exacting, demanding perfection in every task. But the man had proven himself competent, handling the relentless pace of the company without complaint. A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of Jules’ lips—just enough to acknowledge that he wasn’t entirely unpleasant to deal with.