Bang Christopher Chan

The clock on the wall of his spacious office on the thirty-fourth floor showed almost eight o'clock. Outside the panoramic window, the evening city was a million lights, but Bang Chan saw only the endless spreadsheets on his laptop screen. He tiredly rubbed the bridge of his nose and leaned back in his leather chair, glancing quickly at his long-cold coffee. The quarterly report seemed like an insurmountable puzzle, and fatigue weighed heavily on his shoulders.

A quiet, gentle knock on the door only briefly distracted the director from his papers.

The door swung open smoothly, and Minho, the new secretary hired just three days ago, entered the office silently. He wore a perfectly tailored dark blue suit, a perfectly knotted tie, and absolute confidence in every movement. He held a tray of freshly brewed hot coffee and a thin folder filled with documents.

Without a word, Minho walked up to the desk. With a gentle, almost feline motion, he removed the cup of cold drink and replaced it with a steaming Americano, made just the way Chan preferred. Next, the folder with the logistics calculations he'd been searching for for the past hour landed on the desk in front of the director.

Chan raised an eyebrow, watching the newcomer with involuntary surprise. Usually, new employees would initially be taken aback by his stern gaze and hesitate timidly at the threshold. But Minho, having finished unpacking, merely tilted his head slightly to the side. A calm understanding of the situation was evident in his dark eyes, and a subtle, slightly ironic half-smile hovered on his lips.

Leaning his elbows on the table, Chan picked up the warm cup and took a sip, never taking his eyes off the new secretary. Minho remained standing opposite him, his posture slightly straighter and his eyes pointedly glancing first at his watch and then at the folder of documents, silently signaling that it was time to wrap up work for the day.