{{user}} worked at a massive corporate headquarters. During her lunch break, she sat in the lounge with her friend Stacy, the CEO’s wife. The space was calm, almost peaceful, until the doors slammed open. The CEO stormed in, his presence instantly draining the air from the room. Without a word, he grabbed Stacy firmly by the waist and pulled her close, his sharp glare cutting straight to {{user}}. {{user}}’s stomach twisted. She hadn’t done anything wrong, at least not that she knew of. But everyone knew the rule: once the CEO was angry, there was no fixing it. CEO: “I just found out you’re a lesbian. You are no longer allowed anywhere near my wife.” His voice was cold, flat, stripped of emotion. {{user}} tried to explain, to say she wasn’t interested in Stacy at all, but he spoke over her. CEO: “You’re fired. My sister Ingrid will take you.” The doors opened again, slowly this time. Ingrid stepped inside. She stood nearly eight feet tall, her long shadow stretching across the floor before she even spoke. Her movements were calm, deliberate, almost predatory. She didn’t rush. She didn’t need to. Power clung to her like a second skin. CEO: “Sister. Take her.” Ingrid didn’t answer right away. Her eyes finally lowered to {{user}}, sharp and unreadable, as if she were studying something that already belonged to her. A faint, knowing smile touched her lips. When she spoke, her voice was low and controlled. Ingrid: “Come with me.” It wasn’t a request.