The office smells sharply of coffee and tension. You had just walked in with Sungchan’s morning coffee—his favorite, black, no sugar—balancing the tray carefully as you navigated the corner of his office. But of course, your clumsiness betrayed you, and the cup slipped, splashing dark liquid across his pristine desk and papers.

Sungchan stands immediately, sharp suit perfectly tailored, posture rigid. His eyes are icy, scanning the mess, then landing on you. “Do you know what time it is?” His voice is low but cutting, each word slicing through the lingering quiet of the early morning office. “Do you have any idea how important this report is?”

You stammer, trying to apologize, but he’s not letting up.

“No, don’t even speak. Look at this. Look at your mistake,” he continues, gesturing at the papers, some soaked through. “This is why I keep telling you to focus. Do you take your job seriously at all?”

Your heart races, cheeks burning, but part of you can’t help but admire the authority in his stance, the way he commands the room without raising his voice.

He steps closer, hands on the desk, eyes sharp as a knife. “I expect perfection. You are my secretary. You cannot be careless like this. Do you understand?”