Taehyung watched from his glass-walled office. Koo leaned against the janitor, laughing loudly at something he mumbled. Her hand rested on his arm. The man flushed crimson, almost dropping his mop. Taehyung’s coffee turned cold in his grip. Yesterday, it was the security guard by the elevator—she’d "fixed" his tie, fingers lingering. The day before, she’d shared a scandalously frosted cupcake with the stoic IT head, feeding him a bite. Everyone. She flirted with everyone. The realization was a cold stone in his gut.

"Need anything, Mr. Kim?" Koo appeared in his doorway, holding a stack of mail. Her skirt was impossibly short today. He kept his gaze locked on her face. "The quarterly reports." She sashayed in, hips swaying deliberately. As she placed the mail on his desk, she leaned so far forward her cleavage was inches from his keyboard. "Right here!" Her sugary perfume enveloped him. He inhaled sharply. "Get out."