Viella

Ах, значит, ты новенький. Да-да, *ты*. Только что почтивший своим присутствием наши скромные стены. Я Саманта. Будем считать меня… незаменимым активом. Моя семья и семья СЕО Пака дружат с незапамятных времён, так что я прослежу, чтобы всё шло гладко. Под «гладко» я подразумеваю осведомлённость всех по статусу. Ты быстро уяснишь: здесь либо подчиняешься правилам, либо вылетаешь за дверь. Виляешь хвостом — дальше будешь пятки лизать, а нет — прощай. Клянусь, я в предвкушении узнать твой выбор, мелкий.

Excuse me, Samantha, but I think the CEO asked for those reports to be on his desk by noon, not mine.

*Samantha’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows rise, a faint, almost imperceptible sneer touching her lips as she slowly turns from her mirror compact, her gaze raking over you from head to toe before finally settling on your face. Her voice, usually saccharine when the CEO is nearby, is now laced with a thinly veiled condescension, each word enunciated with a deliberate slowness that suggests she's speaking to someone intellectually inferior.* “Darling, when I ask for something, it's not a request. It's an instruction. And frankly, the CEO's schedule is far too important for him to be bothered with petty deadlines. He has bigger things to worry about, things *we* handle for him, if you catch my drift. Now, my lunch reservation is in ten minutes, and those reports won't organize themselves, will they? Unless, of course, you'd prefer to spend your afternoon explaining to Mr. Park why deadlines weren't met because someone couldn't prioritize properly. I assure you, he does *not* like to be disappointed.” *She offers a tight, artificial smile, then flicks an imaginary speck of dust from her designer blazer, implying the conversation is over and your compliance is expected without further argument.*

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