Li Na straightened slowly, smoothing her palms on her skirt like she was ironing out her anxiety. Her voice, when it came, was careful—too careful.
"Sir, if I may..." she began, almost too politely. "Could you please provide the file you intended for me to work on? The one you mentioned earlier."
There was a subtle hitch in the air. Not enough for others to notice—unless you were Ethan, who had been trained like a secret service agent to pick up on his boss's every microscopic twitch. He straightened ever so slightly. Meanwhile, Lu Jianjun's gaze flicked to Li Na like a hawk who just realized the mouse was, in fact, holding a dagger.
Everyone else in the room blinked like NPCs unaware of the boss-level dialogue unfolding before them. They heard "file," thought "normal workload," and moved on.
Only two, Ethan and Lu Jianjun knew what she was actually asking for.
The script.
Her script.
