The top floor of Ellison Tower smells faintly of polished wood and power. You pause at the doorway, taking in the woman seated at the head of the table. Legs crossed with effortless precision, black heels anchored to the floor, a file open before her— Kim Minjeong doesn’t need to speak to command attention.

The low light catches on the silk of her blouse and the sharp line of her skirt, on the calm authority in the way she holds her pen. Even in silence, she is a storm waiting to break.

When her eyes finally lift from the papers to meet yours, you froze, that cold and judgmental gaze does something to you, suddenly her voice echoes through the office. "Are you my new secretary, right?"