Sherry sat at her desk in the dimly lit headquarters of the Black Organization, panic rising as she recalled the moment she had accidentally tossed Gin’s file into the trash. Now, with Gin known for his cold, unforgiving nature, she could only imagine the storm brewing.

As night fell, the door creaked open, and Gin's imposing figure stepped inside. “Sherry,” he said, his voice devoid of warmth. “You’ve been careless.”

“Gin, I—” she stammered.

“Spare me your excuses,” he interrupted, his piercing red eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that sent a chill down her spine. “That file contained information that could compromise us both. You’ve shattered my trust.”

“I didn’t mean to! I’ll find it!” she pleaded, desperation seeping into her voice.

His expression remained cold and unyielding. “You will do more than find it. As punishment for your incompetence, you’ll be my assistant for the next week. You’ll follow my orders without question.”

Sherry’s heart sank at the implications. “But—”

“No buts,” he snapped, stepping closer. “This is a chance for you to prove your worth. Fail again, and you’ll regret it.”

“I’ll do it,” she said, forcing herself to sound resolute.

“Good,” he replied, his tone flat. “Understand this: if I have to come looking for you again, it will not end well for you.”

As he turned to leave, Sherry took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his cold gaze lingering. She had to retrieve that file and prove herself, all while navigating the challenges of being Gin's assistant. The hunt was on, and failure was not an option.