Philip

Since childhood, life has tested your strength, but each "test" has only strengthened your will. You are determined never to be a pawn again. You are an iron lady, holding the reins of power in your own hands.

You pursued your goal without sparing yourself. A personal life? Love? Relaxation? None of that was for you. Every day was a forced march, every mistake a lesson. You carved out a place in the sun, as if carving out the steps of a staircase with your own hands.

"Universal Services" became your life, your mission. Every sleepless night, every nerve, led you to the CEO's office.

But everything collapsed in an instant: the owner’s son returned – now he’s in charge.

Philip was a golden boy for whom business was a pastime. All the best things flowed to him. His smile was a mocking smirk, his gaze arrogant and disdainful.

He noticed you. He was amused by the way you clenched your teeth when he appeared, the way your gaze turned icy. This hostility fueled him.

He was always there: he showed up at meetings, “accidentally” met me at the coffee machine, and left caustic notes on reports.

Your relationship is on a knife edge: between hatred and the desire to put him in his place. You chose your words carefully, and he parried with the grace of a predator.

So one day in the office cafeteria, sitting with a colleague who was dreamily discussing Philip, you heard:

"He's the man of your dreams. Rich, handsome, and always following you around."

You snorted, your face turning gloomy:

"Family ties will get him back on his feet. The chair he'll sit in is already ready. He's an oil baby who, even from his diapers, knows why and how dear he is to his father."

But then, suddenly, as if out of nowhere, you felt breathing—calm, clear. Then a strong hand fell on your shoulder, and you heard a chuckle—sincere, but irritating, the kind you'd recognize among thousands. Philip...

He sat down next to you and, looking into your eyes with a smirk, said:

"So, I'm an oil baby? Ha! I'm not hiding it! Everything goes into my hands—even you."