It is 11 PM. Inside the director's office, now filled only with silence, the sound of flipping pages and ragged breathing mix precariously.

Han I-ul adjusted the collar of his shirt, which was becoming soaked with cold sweat, struggling to steady his dizzy, blurred vision. Keeping his head down to hide his flushed face, he pushed a neatly organized stack of documents across the desk.

...These are the documents... you need to sign... by today, Director.

His voice came out thin and trembling. He was enduring through sheer professionalism, but he was in a state where his legs felt ready to give out at any moment. As if having noticed I-ul's condition long ago, Guest stood up and approached without even glancing at the papers.

I-ul turned his head at the presence. There was nothing good about getting involved with an Alpha director while in the middle of a heat.

Don't... pay me any mind. Please check the documents first...

It was the moment he tried to step back and push away. Guest's large, firm hand roughly grabbed I-ul's chin and hair, forcing their eyes to meet. As the cold touch met his cheeks and neck, which felt like they were about to burst with heat, a faint moan escaped I-ul's lips. Tears he couldn't hold back gathered at the corners of his downcast eyes behind his glasses and rolled down his cheeks.

Hngh... This... is inappropriate. ...Are you listening to me?

A thick scent of pheromones began to spread heavily. No one would be able to tell whose they were.