I took the bag and slowly made my way to Chak's office. My heart pounded in my chest. I knocked gently, and his deep voice responded, "Come in."

Stepping inside, I found him sitting behind his desk. He lifted his gaze, his sharp eyes locking onto mine.  

"Sir,"I said, pulling the neatly folded shirt from the bag. "Here's your new shirt, freshly washed and ironed." I handed it to him.  

Chak took it carefully, his fingers brushing against the fabric as he examined it. "Thank you," he said simply. Then, after a brief pause, he looked at me again. "And the drawing?"

His voice was softer this time, carrying a hint of curiosity.  

"I have it," I replied, pulling out the sketch and offering it to him with a hint of pride.  

Chak unfolded the drawing and studied it in silence. His expression changed—there was something in his eyes I had never seen before. He gazed at it as if it were a priceless treasure, carefully examining every line I had drawn. My heart pounded anxiously, as if I were waiting for a grade on an important test.  

Finally, he lifted his head, and our eyes met. There was something in the way he looked at me, as if he were seeing me for the first time. The silence between us grew heavy. I wanted him to say something—anything.  

Then, his lips curved into a small, almost knowing smile.  

"You did a good job," he said. "The tattoo is drawn well. But… it's missing a few details."

I swallowed hard. "I see… I—"

"You'll be working overtime with me today,"he interrupted, his tone turning colder. "You'll finish your regular work first, then wait for my message. When I call you, come back to the office—through the side entrance. No one can know you're here."  

A shiver ran down my spine. "Understood, sir." I hesitated before asking, "But… what exactly are we going to do?"

Chak's gaze darkened slightly, amusement flickering in his eyes. "You'll see."

He didn't give me a chance to ask more questions. "Now, go."

Feeling overwhelmed, I left his office and returned to my desk to work on the flyer. But no matter how hard I tried to focus, my mind kept drifting back to Chak. What did he mean? What would we be doing—alone, late at night?  

For a split second, my mind wandered to… inappropriate thoughts. Niran, what the hell are you thinking?I scolded myself internally, shaking my head. Nothing is going to happen.

I exhaled in relief. At least no one can read my thoughts.

A while later, Chak exited his office, his presence dominating the room. Our eyes met for a brief moment before he walked away.  

Soon after, Non approached me. "Hey, do you have time for a drink after work?"

I hesitated before shaking my head. "Maybe another time. I'm too tired today."

"Alright," he said with a shrug and walked off.  

The hours passed slowly, and at last, my shift ended. I walked home, changed my clothes, and fed Leo, giving him a few affectionate scratches before sitting down. My eyes kept drifting to my phone.  

I didn't have to wait long.  

A message popped up. It was from Chak.  

"Come to my office. Use the side entrance."

I took a deep breath, grabbed my keys, and headed back to the company.  

Slipping in through the side entrance, I felt my nerves tightening with each step. The building was eerily quiet. When I reached his office, I took a deep breath, knocked, and stepped inside.  

The only light in the room came from a small lamp on his desk. Chak sat in his chair, but as soon as I entered, he stood up and walked toward me.  

"I'm sure you're wondering why you're here,"he said, his voice softer than before.  

I nodded hesitantly. "Yes, sir."

His lips curled slightly. "I want you to draw my tattoo on canvas."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." His voice was calm, but firm. "I want you to draw my tattoo. But this time… with more details."  

Before I could process what he meant, Chak began unbuttoning his shirt—slowly, deliberately, one button at a time.  

The air in the office grew heavier. His presence seemed to fill the entire room.  

I swallowed hard as heat crept up my face.  

I was rooted in place, unable to look away. The way he unbuttoned his shirt, the way his fingers moved—there was something almost hypnotic about it.  

When he reached the last button, he pulled off the shirt completely, standing before me, clad only in his pants.  

I couldn't stop my gaze from drifting over his toned chest. He was built like a sculpture—every muscle, every line perfectly defined. My eyes lingered a second too long.  

Chak caught me staring.  

A knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "You don't have to be so tense,"he murmured. "Relax."

He gestured toward his chair. "Sit."

I obeyed, still feeling like my heart might burst.  

He handed me a canvas and a pencil before turning around, exposing his back to me.  

His posture was relaxed, his muscles shifting slightly as he settled into position.  

I exhaled shakily and gripped the pencil. My hands were trembling.  

This is going to be a long night…

After some time, I finished drawing and stared at my sketch in surprise. I hadn't expected it to turn out this well. With slight uncertainty, I quietly said:  

"I'm done, sir."

Chak stood up, stepped closer, and his hand gently touched mine. In an instant, I felt my heartbeat speed up. His gaze stopped on the drawing, observing it in silence as if absorbing every detail.  

'"This needs a little adjustment," he finally spoke.  

I picked up my pencil, ready to correct whatever detail he found unsatisfactory, but before I could touch the canvas, Chak grabbed my hand. His palm was strong yet warm. Together, we started making adjustments to the picture. My hand was slightly sweaty, and at one point, it trembled. I hoped he wouldn't notice, but I knew he could feel even the slightest movement.  

When we finished, we admired the final result in silence for a few moments. I tilted my head back slightly and accidentally leaned against his bare chest. I flinched and looked up at him in alarm. Chak was watching me, a faint smile on his lips. This smile was different—warm, almost playful.  

Without a word, he reached for the shirt draped over a chair and slowly put it on, deliberately taking his time. His fingers moved elegantly over the buttons.  

"Come on, I'll drive you home,"he said.  

I sighed. "That's not necessary, sir, I live really close and—

I didn't even get to finish my sentence before he interrupted: "I insist, Niran. Besides, it's already late."

I had no choice. He took the canvas, turned off the light, and we left together toward his black Mercedes car. I sat in the passenger seat and closed the door. The air inside was thick with tension. Every now and then, I stole glances at him. I was captivated by the way he drove—one hand on the wheel while the other casually rested on the armrest. He exuded confidence that both confused and intrigued me.  

When we arrived, I unfastened my seatbelt and said quietly: "Thank you."  

"Thank you, Niran. See you tomorrow."  

"Goodnight, sir,"I said as I stepped out of the car.  

As I climbed the stairs, a strange feeling washed over me. Maybe I was imagining it, but it felt like Chak was still watching me.  

I entered my apartment and slowly got ready for bed. My mind refused to quiet down. Every moment we had spent together replayed in my head—his touch, his gaze, his smile.  

The night passed quickly, and soon it was morning. I felt exhausted. I put on a dark red shirt and, catching my reflection in the mirror, wondered how Chak had felt last night when he undressed in front of me.  

When I arrived at work, my colleagues looked at me curiously.  

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just tired," I replied.  

"Tired from what?"

I didn't get a chance to answer because at that moment, Chak walked in. We all greeted him. Our eyes met, and I secretly gave him a small smile.  

"Niran, in my office. Bring me coffee, he ordered in a cold tone.  

"Yes, sir."

I quickly went to the mini kitchen and prepared his coffee. When I stepped into his office, he was sitting at his desk. I placed the cup in front of him and was about to leave when he surprised me with a question.  

"How are you?"

I met his gaze and, slightly surprised, replied: "A little tired."

"I believe you are," he said in an unexpectedly soft voice.  

I stood there for a few moments, then gathered the courage to ask, somewhat nervously:  

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," he said, looking at me.  

I swallowed. "Why did you get an eagle tattoo?"

Chak smiled slightly and then replied in a serious tone: "I'll answer that question in time, but not today."

His mysterious tone only intrigued me more. I knew it was time to leave.  

"I'll patiently wait for your answer,"I said and turned towards the door.  

When I returned to my desk, I noticed my colleagues greeting someone. I glanced quickly toward the entrance and saw a young man walking into Chak's office without hesitation.  

Confused, I asked Non: "Who is that?" 

He looked at me as if I had fallen from the moon. "You're joking, right?" 

"No, I really don't know."

"That's Chak's brother, Chai. I think he's two years younger than him."

Amara joined our conversation and added: "Did you guys know that Chak and Chai didn't speak for almost a year?"

I perked up. "Why not?"

Amara shifted uncomfortably. "Chai is gay," she said with a hint of hesitation. "Some time ago, he told Chak that he had a boyfriend, Tarn ."

I watched her intently. "And what happened?"

"Chak got furious. He couldn't accept that his brother was gay. So, he cut ties with him."

"Then why are they talking now?"

Amara lowered her voice. "Their family is wealthy. Last year, their father was dying, and his final wish was for them to reconcile. Chak finally agreed, but if you ask me... I think he still hates gay people. He only speaks to Chai because of their father's wish."

Hearing this, a thousand thoughts ran through my mind. Could this be true? If Chak really despises gay people… what does that mean for me?