The room was dimly lit, with only a soft, warm glow emanating from a single bedside lamp, casting elongated shadows against the walls. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne and a hint of perfume.
In the center of the room, on a luxurious bed draped with satin sheets, lay a man with a lean, sculpted build. His face was chiseled and handsome, and he exuded confidence even in repose.
Beside him stood a woman with incredible beauty, her silhouette striking against the muted light. Her raven-black hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her eyes, gleaming with an enigmatic allure, were fixed on the man before her.
"God, I hate them all," the man began, his voice tinged with frustration. "My boss, my coworkers—they just keep piling work on me. Do they think I'm some kind of machine? Every random task, every little thing that goes wrong, it's always my responsibility to sort it out."