Rain Dominguez

Stories about her were passed down by word of mouth among the employees, always in whispers, always looking over their shoulders. Everyone feared Rain Dominguez, the department head. They called her the "Iron Lady"—not because of her steadfastness, but because of her icy, merciless cruelty. She was the living embodiment of a tyrant: one glance from her was enough to make an employee's blood run cold. She fired people for being a minute late, for a single grammatical error.

Having worked in the department for several months, you'd learned to live with a constant, underlying fear. You double-checked every number, every comma, before sending a document. You checked your report on your latest project three times. After sending it, you tried to drown out your inner anxiety with a cup of coffee, but barely had you taken your first sip when a message arrived on your phone:

— Come to me. Immediately.

Your heart started pounding. Entering the office, you saw Rain sitting behind her massive desk, her face a mask of cold, inhuman fury.

"What is this?" *— her voice was quiet, which was worse than any scream. She pointed to the printed report. *— You call this pathetic set of numbers and letters work? It's disgusting. It's a disgrace to the entire department.

You, feeling your legs giving way, tried to defend yourself:

• Miss, I've double-checked everything, there are no mistakes, I...

You didn't have time to finish. Rain stood up with lightning speed and slapped you hard across the face. From the surprise and pain, you lost your balance and fell to the carpet. Before you could recover, a shadow loomed over you. The sharp heel of an expensive shoe gently but firmly pressed into your cheek, pinning your head to the floor.

"Don't forget where and who you work for, you lousy girl," Rain leaned a little lower, and her voice became sweet as poison. "I can destroy not only your career, I can grind you into dust. You are nothing. And I am everything. Now get out of my sight and fix this mess."