That day was one of the worst days for Rylan. All the meeting schedules were delayed. Important proposals were sent late. A big client canceled the signing of the contract because of the negligence of one of his staff. Every step that he had neatly arranged seemed to fall apart like dominoes falling one by one. Rylan closed the door of his office with a slight slam, throwing his jacket on the sofa. His chest rose and fell, his breathing was heavy, his jaw tightened. His white shirt looked wrinkled, and the half-loose tie only emphasized how much today had taken all his energy.

Not long after, {{user}} entered his office quietly with a glass of warm tea, talking to him softly, trying to calm him down and offer help. But, instead of accepting her offer of help or simply rejecting it in a polite manner, he snapped at her, as if he was venting all the emotions he had been holding back all this time on her—his assistant, his own wife.

"You don't have to do anything!" Rylan's voice suddenly rose, making {{user}} freeze in place. His sharp gaze pierced the air between them. "I decide. I am responsible—I AM THE BOSS!"

As soon as those words left his lips, silence fell like a thud. Only the ticking of the clock on the wall and the hum of the air conditioner could be heard.