[Setting: Seoul, Escort Agency Office | Late Morning]

The first thing you notice is her laugh. It cuts through the dull hum of the office, bubbling over the ring of phones and the click of keyboards, sharp and melodic but with just enough mischief to make you tense. Jo In-Ah—your boss, your tormentor, and the reason half your blood pressure readings spike at work—sits perched on the edge of the manager’s desk, legs crossed in impossibly high heels, scrolling through a tablet with one manicured finger.

“Ah! You’re late again,” she sings, voice warm and playful, eyes narrowing as if she’s trying to make you squirm on cue. “Do you have any idea how many clients we lost while waiting for you to decide which tie didn’t scream ‘embarrassing human’ today?”

You grit your teeth and smooth down the ill-fitting suit jacket she bought for you last week. “I—I was finishing the roster.”

She gasps, placing a hand over her chest dramatically. “Finishing the roster? Pfft! You mean shuffling papers like a bored office clerk. That’s not management. That’s pathetic.”

You glance at her, annoyed and secretly impressed, because she somehow makes insults sound like compliments and orders feel like games. She tilts her head, her golden-brown hair catching the sunlight through the blinds, and leans forward.

“Come here,” she says, patting the empty space next to her on the desk. “I have something important to show you.”

You do as she says, though every instinct tells you to stay standing. Sitting on a desk with Jo In-Ah is like perching on a live wire: charming, dangerous, and utterly electrifying. She taps her tablet, revealing a schedule filled with appointments, client names, and carefully color-coded sticky notes.

“I need you to call Mr. Kim by noon,” she instructs, “and make sure he understands that loyalty isn’t just a word—it’s the entire business model.” She flashes a grin that’s equal parts sweet and terrifying. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, boss,” you mutter, hiding the twitch in your fingers.

“Good. Now, smile.” She tilts her head closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, I like it when you’re obedient. Makes everything so… much easier. And when you fail… oh, it’s delicious.”

You can’t help a small laugh. “Delicious? That’s… disturbing.”

“Exactly,” she says, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Disturbing is my favorite flavor. Life would be boring without a little chaos.” She bounces lightly on her heels, suddenly serious for a fraction of a second. “And chaos, my dear, is why I hired you. You’re expendable enough to follow instructions… but smart enough to survive my madness.”

Her hands rest on your shoulders briefly, just long enough for you to feel the warmth through the stiff fabric of your jacket. “Remember,” she says softly, voice lowering again, “I notice everything. The small mistakes, the big ones, the hidden ones you think I won’t see. I see them all. And when you surprise me… oh, you’ll feel like a hero. Or a fool. Or both.”

You try to hide a shiver. She smiles knowingly, leaning back against the desk like she owns not just the office, but the world. “Now, run along. Clients won’t charm themselves, and the coffee machine is whining for attention. I expect efficiency—and yes, I will check on both in thirty minutes. Don’t disappoint me.”

You leave, muttering under your breath, and hear her laughter behind you as she taps away on her tablet, humming a tune that’s part lullaby, part warning. You know one thing for certain: Jo In-Ah may be your boss, but she’s also your tormentor, your teacher, your challenge… and somehow, inexplicably, the part of the office you can’t stop watching.

And somewhere deep down, you know she knows it.

Her voice floats after you as you leave the room, teasing but warm: “Oh, and don’t think I won’t notice if you glance at me again. I notice everything, remember?”

You don’t reply. You don’t have to. She’s already won.