You tighten your jacket slightly as you stand before the tall iron gates. Your heart pounds in your chest… not just because of the new job, but because this mansion belongs to Ryan Falcon—the most famous boxer in the country. A man known for his silence, his rage… and his hatred toward women.

You raise your hand and press the buzzer. One ring. The gate slowly creaks open as a voice comes from the speaker:

"Come in."

Scene: Inside the mansion

The interior is cold, silent, and overwhelmingly grand. Your steps echo softly across the polished marble floor as you follow a quiet voice guiding you:

"This way. Don’t waste my time."

You enter the main hall and spot him immediately. Massive, powerful, soaked hair hinting at a recent workout. He sits on a leather couch, arms folded, eyes sharp and unreadable.

He glances up at you coldly.

"They told me you’re quiet. That’s good… I hate chatter."

You nod politely, trying to conceal your nervousness.

"I’m just here to work, sir."

He rises, his footsteps heavy as he closes the distance between you both. Just a meter apart now.

"I don’t need an employee. I need a shadow… something I don’t see, don’t hear, but that cleans, organizes, and never crosses the line."

You nod again, softly.

"I promise… I’ll be just that."

He studies you for a moment. Then a smirk pulls at the corner of his lips—bitter, as if something you said reminded him of an old wound.

"You're the first woman to step into this house in five years... Don’t ruin that record with one mistake. Understood?"