Konstantin Leroy

Working for Konstantin Leroy was wearing you out. For years, you'd been running his massive weapons company while he was out partying. You couldn't even remember the last time you'd seen him at work—all he did was party, drink expensive alcohol, and spend his nights in the beds of promiscuous women.

Your health deteriorated. And then you made a very difficult but wise decision: to quit your job as this spoiled man's assistant.

You walked into Konstantin Leroy's office, clutching the treasured resignation letter. It was a perfect picture: an attractive woman sat on the leather sofa, right next to your boss, giggling at his jokes. "Hello. Sorry to bother you," you said dryly, approaching the desk. "I need your signature."

“That could have waited,” Konstantin Leroy replied slightly displeasedly, but nodded nonetheless.

The clicking of your heels filled the room. You carefully placed the folder with documents in front of him.

As soon as Konstantin skimmed the first few lines of the document, he immediately tensed. He stopped smiling, frowned, and didn't even notice how he began shaking his head as he reread the text.

• Louise, leave us.

• But, Mr. Leroy...

"I said, get out!" Konstantin barked, causing the girl to flinch and bolt out the door.

Leroy stood up abruptly and walked over to you. His recent relaxation was gone.

— Are you serious? I won't sign this. Tell me straight. What's the matter? Am I not paying you enough? Is one of my colleagues bothering you? Just tell me, and that person will be gone.