When she arrived in front of her workplace, the sky was beginning to lighten—
not a real morning, but a kind of dirty light slipping between the clouds,
giving everything a cold, metallic, washed-out look.
She parked.
Cut the engine.
And remained still for a moment, fingers tight around the steering wheel, breath heavy.
She could feel her heart beating in two distinct rhythms:
one calm, slow, soothed—left by Sion;
the other fast, violent, nervous—announcing the chaos to come.
She opened the door and stepped out.
Her heels clicked against the damp pavement.
Her silhouette moved with a new kind of confidence, almost dangerous,
as if the night had poured a dose of addictive poison into her blood.
Her still-wet hair slid over her shoulders.
Her shirt — Sion's shirt — stuck out from under her coat, wrinkled, slightly open, revealing a bit too much skin.
But she didn't fix anything.
She liked what it said.
She liked what it showed.
Her coworkers watched her walk into the open space as if a stranger had slipped into their office.
This woman with burning eyes.
With slow movements.
With a too-calm smile to be sane.
And then—
everything inside her collapsed.
All the humiliations.
All the mocking laughs.
All the venomous little remarks.
Everything she had swallowed in silence for months—out of kindness, out of politeness, out of weakness.
She didn't feel that weakness anymore.
Not today.
Today, she had Sion's taste in her mouth.
And that changed everything.
The two vipers were already snickering.
Of course.
As if they'd learned nothing.
As if the woman walking toward them still wore the skin of the old Nari.
But she wasn't her anymore.
She had become… something else.
A woman born from a night too intense, too burning, too real.
A woman who had plunged into darkness and emerged with new eyes.
When she reached the two girls, her heart grew calm.
A frightening calm.
A calm that scares.
A calm that precedes the storm.
She stared at them.
For a long time.
Without blinking.
And her smile — slow, cold, almost sensual — silenced every conversation around them.
Only then did she raise her hand.
Nari's hand moved before she even fully realized it.
A sharp, precise, pure, instinctive movement—
as if her body had decided before her mind.
SLAP.
The sound cut through the entire open space, slicing the air like a whip,
a crack so sharp that even the keyboards stopped clicking,
even the breaths paused,
even the lamps above seemed to flicker under the impact.
The colleague's cheek instantly flushed red,
a perfectly shaped handprint blooming on her skin,
her eyes wide,
her breath stolen.
Nari didn't move.
Didn't lower her hand.
Didn't step back.
She stared at her—pupils narrowed, lips parted, breathing slow, almost sensual.
The second colleague lifted a hand to her mouth, shocked.
But no sound dared leave her throat.
— Are you crazy??? the first one finally yelled, her voice cracking, swinging between surprise and fear.
Nari tilted her head slightly to the side,
a slow, soft, almost tender smile pulling at her lips—
but her eyes were frozen,
deadly,
merciless.
She stepped forward.
Slowly.
So slowly the girl's heart seemed to stop between each step.
Then she grabbed her coworker by the hair.
Not a fast gesture.
Not a violent one.
No.
A controlled gesture.
Measured.
Cold.
Slow.
Hypnotic.
Her hand slid through the strands, her fingers closing on the scalp,
pulling her head back until the girl was forced to lift her chin—
vulnerable, exposed, eyes wide with terror.
Their faces were only a few centimeters apart.
A single breath.
— What… you want more?
Nari's voice was low.
Soft.
Almost affectionate.
A poisonous caress.
The colleague blinked, tears already gathering.
— I… I'll tell the boss… she stammered, her voice trembling like a page about to tear.
Nari smiled.
A wide, slow, cruel, luminous smile—
a smile of a woman who finally removed her chains,
a smile that made you want to step back,
to run,
to never cross her gaze again.
— Go ahead.
Her voice vibrated in the air like an icy caress.
— Knock yourself out.
She released her hair.
All at once.
The girl staggered backward, one hand pressed to her aching scalp, the other trembling, breath short, unable to understand what had just happened, unable to move.
Nari didn't give her a single look.
Her heels tapped the floor with a tranquil slowness,
an almost insolent confidence,
completely devoid of guilt.
Every step was a verdict.
Every step was a deliberate abandonment of everything she had been.
She walked toward the boss's office, shoulders straight, head high,
a calm, terrifying smile on her lips.
She looked like a queen walking across a field of ruins she had set on fire herself.
In the open space…
No one dared look her in the eyes.
No one dared speak.
No one dared breathe too loudly.
The tension was so thick it could have been cut with a knife.
The slapped girl still trembled.
The other had backed against her desk, frozen, hands covering her mouth.
Nari placed her hand on the office door handle.
And inhaled once.
Deeply.
She felt fire under her skin.
Blood pulsing between her thighs.
Her fingers trembling with adrenaline.
Her heart pounding as if it wanted to rip out of her chest.
But she felt alive.
For the first time in years.
She opened the door.
And stepped into the monster's lair.
The office door slammed behind her—
a dull, heavy slam.
The air here was nothing like the open space.
It was heavy, humid, saturated with the smell of cold coffee, rancid sweat,
and an overly sweet cheap perfume.
It felt like a den.
A cage.
A trap.
The boss immediately looked up, cutting the sentence he was dictating to his computer.
His pupils shrank.
A smile slid across his greasy face.
A smile she had seen before—
in hallways, in reflections, in shadows—
a predator's smile.
— Nari?
His thick voice vibrated like a growl.
She placed an envelope on his desk. Slowly.
Made it slide with the tip of her fingers as if she were setting down a bomb.
— I'm resigning.
Not a tremor in her voice.
Just a cold certainty.
He stood up.
Very slowly.
Like a beast stretching before it attacks.
He walked around his desk.
His massive frame cast a shadow over her.
A shadow that smelled of danger.
A shadow that smelled of death.
— Where do you think you are? he murmured, his voice almost gentle, strangely calm.
— You don't walk out of here just like that. You know that very well.
He leaned toward her, his hot, foul breath brushing her face.
A bead of sweat slid down his temple.
His fingers tangled brutally in Nari's hair, yanking her head back, exposing her throat, her chest.
— You wanna die?
His voice was a sick growl, a wounded animal still dangerous enough to bite.