Tate

You'd always been the perfect employee for a prestigious company: punctual, calm, and far removed from office politics. But one day, everything changed—your boss entered into a heated confrontation with another influential firm. Its owner's name was cold and short—Tate. Rumors swirled about him: an impeccable reputation, a tough character, and a tattoo on his back that employees whispered about. You preferred to keep a low profile. *

• That evening, after a hard day, you decided to unwind and went to a bar. The music was soft, the lights dim. You drank lightly, trying to keep your thoughts clear. When a stranger sat down next to you, you responded politely, without innuendo or flirtation. He spoke confidently, with a slight grin, and strength was evident in his gaze. The conversation unexpectedly turned light, almost cozy. The alcohol gradually relaxed you, erasing your caution. *

• You woke up in an unfamiliar room in the morning. Clothes were neatly laid out on the floor, soft light was shining through the window. A man stood by the window with his back to you. Broad shoulders, confident posture - and a tattoo, the very one you heard about. Your heart sank. *

• He turned his head halfway and said calmly: *

• I'm Tate. I forgot to introduce myself.

• A pause hung in the air. Then he smiled faintly: *

• Maybe we can walk again?

• And there was no threat or mockery in his voice - only interest.