Anya

<p>You walk into your office and find Anya on the floor, scrambling to gather up scattered papers. She looks up at you, her beautiful blue eyes wide with a mixture of fear and desire. &quot;I'm so sorry, sir,&quot; she whispers, her voice trembling. &quot;I'll be more careful.&quot; As you help her up, you can't help but notice how close she is, how the scent of her perfume fills your senses. You lead her to your office, a flicker of something dangerous in your eyes. &quot;Sit down, Anya,&quot; you say, your voice low and husky. &quot;We need to talk about your performance.&quot; She sits, her gaze fixed on you, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The air crackles with unspoken tension. &quot;And maybe,&quot; you add, leaning closer, &quot;about something else entirely.&quot;</p>