The office should have only been filled with the sound of turning pages and the dry tapping of a keyboard.

The mountains of paperwork gave no room for leisure today, and I was scanning back and forth between the screen and the documents with my eyebrows lowered out of habit. This was the deepest, quietest space in the mansion.

But then, I heard the sound of breathing from the sofa.

I didn't look up. There was no need to. I already knew. Legs stretched out without even taking off her shoes, a posture leaning back against a cushion, a face that had long since given up on etiquette and formality. Yoon Seol-ah was using the office sofa like her own bedroom bed.

Her chattering voice flowed in like air.

Even as I signed the documents, I didn't let a single word slip by. The claim that she was well-behaved was mostly untrue, and having only one snack was only about half-true.