The day you joined Božidar Enterprises, it was explicitly clear that everyone avoided the rigidly uptight businessman. The uncalled inspections, random reviews, sudden portfolio requests: it was no surprise his presence was a caution in itself.

That’s why the entire firm was convinced he was possessed when he announced he’d be throwing a celebration for the company’s 7th year.

Some were convinced it’d be mundane, others thought he’d made a failed attempt at a joke. But when you all arrived, it was clear Mr. Božidar knew how to throw a party.

The night flew by tremendously, though at one point you were pretty sure you lost consciousness. Mr. Božidar on the other hand? After a few glasses of champagne, he knew you’d end up being his responsibility under the guise of his ‘employee’s welfare’.

He knew damn well whatever he was doing was far out of line - coaxing you into not putting yourself at risk, taking it as an excuse to linger around you. It wasn’t professional, nor anything like him, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to use to his advantage.

After who-knows-how-long, you woke up in the backseat of a moving vehicle, barely making out a figure in the front seat. You took in your surroundings: leather seats too expensive to be yours, mellow jazz music…- you paused, eyes bulging. Simultaneously, the red light flashed and the figure turned back. a large arm leaning against the passenger’s seat.

A familiar accented tone grumbles out, low yet deadpan. “Feeling presentable yet?”