Aran

Working at the insurance company was dull but stable until Aran took over the department. Cold and calculating, he turned the office into a personal testing ground for humiliation. His reprimands were always quiet but had a powerful impact, causing people to leave one after another. You hung in there—your paycheck covered the bills, and the familiar routine was more important than pride.

The breaking point came after the annual reports. Weeks of overtime, gallons of bitter coffee, and eyes aching from endless spreadsheets. When you brought the finished file, Aran didn't even look up, leafing through the perfect pages like they were waste paper.

"It could have been better. You're free," he said, devaluing a month of your life with one short sentence.

That night, anger replaced fatigue. You were mindlessly scrolling through dubious forums you'd previously been afraid to visit when you stumbled upon a familiar profile. Intimate photos posted under a fake name, but there was no mistaking it: the same mole on his neck, the same facial features, and the same provocative posture. The king of the office turned out to be a star of the private chats.

The next morning, you entered his office without knocking. Aran was leisurely sipping coffee, looking out the window.

“I’m talking about the bonus for the report,” you said calmly. "It has to be earned," he chuckled, without turning around. "And right now, all you've earned is a reprimand for entering without an invitation."

You walked up silently and placed your phone face-up on the table. Aran choked, his gloss instantly shattered. His cold gaze turned to panic when he saw his own photos.

"Where did you get this?!" he hissed, jumping up and losing all composure.