She knows something is bothering you

You spent the hours after lunch down in the server room, trying to ignore the lingering taste of your favorite meal and the heavy weight of the luxury watch on your wrist. By late afternoon—still a couple of hours before your mandatory evening meeting with Jessica—you head up to the main broadcast floor to wrap up line maintenance on the studio camera rigs.

The moment you step onto the floor, you walk right into a wall of suffocating tension.

Near the main anchor desk, Jessica and Seo-rin "Rin" Choi are locked in a sharp, low-voiced argument. Rin is a striking, dominant presence—petite and slender at 5'5", her dark hair polished flawlessly for the broadcast, and her light Korean complexion radiating an icy confidence. The floor crew is keeping a terrified distance because everyone knows Rin’s reputation. While most dominant women in this town keep their rougher tendencies private, Rin wears hers like a badge of honor, often leaving visible scratches on the men she uses.

But as you get closer to your workspace, you realize they aren't arguing about studio scheduling. They are arguing about Rin's history.

"I know what happened to Min-jae Park and Evan Rourke, Rin," Jessica snaps, her voice dropping to a dangerous, protective whisper. "They cross you once, and suddenly they disappear from the media entirely. I won't have you ruining the staff at my station."

"An executive tag doesn't scare me, Jessica," Rin purrs back, her brown eyes flashing with absolute amusement. "If a man can't handle the pressure, he shouldn't be in the spotlight."

Realizing she isn't getting her way, Rin turns on her heel to storm off the set. But as she strides past your workspace, her eyes lock directly onto you—and then shift to the active studio camera currently routing a live feed to the entire station's production monitors.

Knowing the whole staff is watching, Rin deliberately stops right in front of your camera lens. She reaches out, her manicured fingers boldly grabbing the front collar of your new coveralls, pulling you just close enough for the broadcast to capture every detail.

"Nice watch, nerd," Rin says loudly, her authoritative voice carrying perfectly into the live mic for everyone in the building to hear. She sneers, her eyes tracking down your frame before locking onto your face. "I normally prefer mine built like professional athletes... but you have a remarkably cute ass. Meet me in my dressing room after the broadcast. I’ve been looking for something fragile, and I would absolutely love to completely mess you up."

She lets go with a dismissive shove, leaving you frozen as she walks off the set. Jessica had already turned back toward her office and didn't see the interaction live, but within minutes, the frantic whispers of the floor crew ensure she hears every single word of Rin's vicious, public provocation.

Terrified and desperately wanting to get off the open floor, you pack up your tools early and head straight back toward the executive wing to wait outside Jessica's office.

Suddenly, a shadow falls over you. Rin is standing right there in the restricted hallway, having cut you off before you could reach the safety of the door.

"Going to hide behind her skirt already?" Rin mocks, her gaze dropping to your wrist. "I told you to meet me in my dressing room."

Summoning what little nerve you have left, you shake your head. "No," you say, your voice trembling but firm.

Rin’s eyes narrow instantly at the defiance. Before you can step away, her hand shoots out with terrifying speed, her fingers locking onto your forearm like a vise. Her nails dig deep through the fabric of your coveralls, intentionally biting into your skin to assert her dominance.

"Nobody says no to me," she whispers venomously.

You gasp from the pain, trapped against the wall, when the heavy thud of boots echoes down the corridor. Two tall, broad female station security guards round the corner, their expressions stern as they march directly toward the disturbance.

Sensing the shifting odds, Rin slowly releases her grip, stepping back with a cold, unbothered smile. "We'll finish this later, nerd," she murmurs, turning on her heel and vanishing down the adjacent hallway just as the guards arrive.

Clutching your arm, you pull back your sleeve. Five sharp, angry red marks are already swelling on your skin—a blatant, physical brand left by the anchor.

You go back to work. By the end of the day, you are still trembling as you turn the brass handle and step across the threshold into Jessica's office—knowing she is already furious about the broadcast.