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The Tyrant's Secret fetish - Chapter 2
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... utes. I was wrong.
I dragged myself back in at 7:58 the next morning same wrinkled shirt from yesterday because I hadn’t even had time to do laundry, eyes so red I looked like I’d been crying in a smoke-filled room, which, fair, I kind of had. Si-woo was already at the head of the conference table, sleeves still rolled, coffee stain mostly gone but still faintly there like a battle scar he refused to hide. Everyone else was pretending to be busy on their screens, but I could feel the sid ...
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