"C-E-O?"

Pakh! Pakh! Pakh!

In the bright office chamber, the sunlight glowed warmly, the table centrally positioned to command a view of the entrance.

A glass wall stood proudly behind the presidential chair, with additional seats arrayed for guests.

Off to one side, a plush couch rested under the soft light.

The luxury was enchanced by a collection of exquisite paintings that adorned the right wall.

Yet, inbetween this serenity, a disturbing clamor echoed—a sound of flesh striking flesh, mingled with a heavy breathing, pungent aroma.

Pak!

The stately table trembled under the weight of a tragic figure.

Atop its polished surface lay a woman of ethereal beauty, her eyes brimming with unspoken grievances and her lips slightly parted in silent suffering, the subtle trickle of blood bearing witness to screams.

Her face, framed by finely arched eyebrows, radiated an allure reminiscent of mist-shrouded peach blossoms after a spring rain.