Gunny strolled listlessly into the Accounting Department, her mood utterly flat. Monday morning had returned as quickly as the blink of an eye. The hour of 8 a.m. dragged on slowly, mirroring the torment in her soul from the monotonous routine of work and people.

She had never once been happy working with her colleagues, a department full of selfish individuals constantly competing against each other. They smiled sweetly to one another's faces but were quick to gossip and slander behind closed doors. This was particularly true of one senior colleague in General Accounting who was constantly looking for flaws, eager to claim credit and deflect blame.

“Five minutes to eight. Almost late, aren’t we? Let me tell you, acting like this, there’s no way you’ll ever get a promotion or a raise.” A sharp voice cut through the air.

Gunny stopped walking and turned toward the tall woman in a white collared shirt and straight black skirt. She stood with her left hand on her hip, her right hand holding a freshly brewed cup of coffee, from which steam was still curling.

“Yes, Noot, is there anything else?” Gunny replied with a blank expression.

Nuchara, as her name tag read, straightened up and glared at her. “I’m just teaching you a lesson, Gunny. I want the best for you, you know.”

“Thank you for your kind intentions,” Gunny replied flatly before walking away with a weary sigh.

Nuchara was officious in every matter, whether professional or personal. Despite her attractive looks and good taste—she had seemed charming and demure at first glance, with long flowing hair and fair skin—her true nature was revealed to be selfish, ambitious, and prone to exaggeration.

In this Accounting Department, everyone lived in their own private world and secretly competed fiercely without any sincerity. When a crisis occurred, everyone looked out for themselves to escape accusation.

Gunny put her bag down and buried her face on the desk. She felt utterly exhausted by a life spent tolerating colleagues who brought her headaches incessantly, pushing her almost to the breaking point.

'Hold on, Gunny, hold on,' she chanted to herself, enduring until her younger brother finished his education. When that time came, freedom wouldn't be far out of reach.

The telephone rang. she fumbled in her bag and took out her phone, looking at the strange number displayed on the screen. She immediately thought of Tonn-Aor, who often used company phone numbers to call her.

"Hello, darling, what's up?" she greeted cheerfully. At least her true friends, the five girls, provided her with relaxation during tough times.

'Darling, did you say? Do you have a boyfriend?' a deep, firm male voice resonated from the other end.

Gunny's eyes widened when she realized the caller was not Tonn-Aor, as she had assumed.

“Who is this?”

'Disappointed that it's not your boyfriend?'

"Stop messing with me! I'm hanging up now, goodbye!" Gunny made a move to end the call, but the person on the other end quickly interrupted her.

'Stop right there, unless you want to lose your job right now.'

She froze for a long moment. When she processed the man's words, her heart sank.

"You are CEO Kawin?"

'Yes. It's me, Kawin.'

"How did you get my number?" she asked back, utterly confused.

'I am your boss, after all. Why wouldn't I know something as simple as that?'

“Do you have some business with me?” she asked, her voice clearly disgruntled, while the voice on the other end replied flatly.

'Certainly. You are in the department now, aren't you?'

"Yes, I am."

'Okay.' He said just that, then immediately hung up.

Gunny quickly pulled the phone away from her ear, a dull ache throbbing in her head. The man's behavior had irritated her from the moment this Monday morning began.

What is he planning to do? Is he coming to the department?

Gunny quickly turned to look at the entrance door as a vague shadow appeared: her Chief Accountant was conversing with someone outside. Her heart hammered irregularly when the silhouette of a familiar, tall young man appeared next to her boss.

It was Kawin.

What is he doing here? she thought, confused. Or did he just call me to tell me he was walking over to the department? She decided this must be his unceremonious, foreign-educated style of working: meeting whomever he wanted, whenever he wanted, without caring what others thought. But this was Thailand; people loved to gossip, and she didn't want others to view her in that light.