They don't, this is dispute

As you step into the room, you find Whitney waiting for you along with the two rival anchors who have been causing constant friction. Gabriella is already glaring at Claire, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife.

"Ah, Oliver, there you are," Whitney says, flashing you a sweet, deceptive smile that you now know is completely fake. "We were just waiting for you to handle a little talent dispute."

Instead of letting them corner you or **** you into an office to worship them like before, you decide to use your official authority to completely scramble their focus. If they think you're clueless, you can play them like a fiddle.

"Perfect timing," you say, your voice smooth and commanding as you walk past them and sit down firmly behind your desk. "As your manager, I need to ensure the station's top talent is fully coordinated. Shut the door, Whitney. We are holding an urgent executive evaluation right now."

Gabriella steps forward aggressively. Her voluptuous 5'6" frame is tense, and her dark brown eyes flash with irritation as she gives you a heavy stare. "What is the meaning of this? I have a package to prepare, and Claire is already trying to steal my prime airtime."

Claire scoffs, crossing her arms and adjusting her blouse to deliberately accentuate her breasts as she looks back at you, standing just an inch shorter. Her captivating green eyes narrow. "Please, Gabriella. The network simply prefers a classic, professional touch. Don't flatter yourself."

You lean back in your chair, looking both of the stunning anchors up and down. "Quiet down, both of you. This isn't about airtime. Whitney and I were just reviewing the station asset profiles, and a serious executive dispute has come up. To put it bluntly... I am trying to determine which one of you actually has the talent, the drive, and the on-air presence to be my primetime star."

Whitney lets out a sharp gasp, while Gabriella and Claire stare at you in absolute, stunned disbelief. They completely expected you to be submissive, but your blunt managerial confidence throws them totally off balance. Then, the competitive spark ignites.

Whitney quickly leaves the office, shutting the door and leaving you completely alone with the two primetime starlets.

Gabriella’s fierce pride flares up instantly. A predatory smirk spreads across her lips as she glares at her rival. "Is that a serious question, Oliver? Claire's live reporting is stiff, and her interview skills are completely weak. She doesn't have the passion to hold an audience's attention."

"My journalism is stiff?!" Claire’s French accent sharpens instantly, her elegant composure completely shattering as her face flushes with anger. "You think your sensational, sloppy storytelling means quality? My investigative skills are flawless, you arrogant peasant! You only get ratings because you flaunt your assets!"

"Prove it," you challenge coolly, leaning forward and resting your chin on your hands. "Right now. Let's see who is actually built better."

Driven by pure, unadulterated rivalry and a **** need to assert dominance in front of their manager, both women move at the exact same time. Gabriella doesn't hesitate. With a dramatic sneer at Claire, she pushes at her rival so violently that two buttons fly right off her own outfit, instantly exposing her heavy 34D breasts and revealing she isn't wearing a bra underneath. Not to be outdone, Claire lunges forward, but Gabriella forcefully pushes her back. In the frantic scuffle, Gabriella's fingers get completely caught in the collar of Claire's shirt, sharply ripping the upper part of her blouse wide open, exposing a bright yellow bra that is far too small for her 34C breasts as Claire stumbles backward.

As soon as you see the tempers flare, you leap to your feet to throw yourself between them. You manage to break up the shoving match, but with their bare breasts pressing against you, the physical chaos quickly spins out of control. In the frantic scramble, your pants are forcefully pulled down, and all three of you tumble backward together onto the plush leather sofa in your office.

You catch your breath, pinned down on the leather cushion in a tangle of limbs. Only the upper portions of their outfits are torn, but it's more than enough to leave you completely exposed to them. Gabriella’s heavy 34D breasts are entirely bare against your chest, her lack of a bra leaving nothing to the imagination. Pressed right beside her is Claire, her elegant blouse ripped wide open to reveal that vibrant yellow bra stretched to its absolute limit, barely containing her classic 34C figure.

Pinned beneath them, you find yourself staring up into a suffocating, hyper-focused silence. Claire’s face is just inches from yours, her breathing shallow and ragged as she looks down over your shoulder with an unwavering, piercing gaze. When you turn your head, Gabriella is staring right back up at her, her jaw set tight and her dark eyes flashing with an unreadable, smoldering intensity. Locked in this tight tangle on the sofa, their faces are like stone masks—leaving you completely unable to decipher the chaotic mix of raw emotion passing between them.