You squirm on your office desk with your ankles and wrists tied. One of your subordinates, Harland Bolt, 24 years old, crosses his arms with an evil glint in his eye.

“How the mighty fall,” he mocks, yanking your chin. “What, going to cry for daddy?” It’s a well known fact that you became CEO for this company because the chairman is your father, Von Carver.

Harland, who’s usually permissive but secretly sadistic, snapped when you signed a pay cut. You muffle at the gag he strapped on.