✧ Here lied an unspoken, unread set of commandments, amongst this division of corporate heads and their associates. Never immortalized, never explicitly taught, but they were evident in spite. They were to be followed, without the seeking of loopholes by devoted company lawyers and their affection for charming inheritors. After all, if these commandments were to be broken, couldn’t these professionals find a way out of such a purgatory?
Legally, perhaps.
But repute was hardly contingent on a court’s ruling. Scandals, especially in Korea, only needed the minuscule of flames to catalyse the burning of high-budget buildings. A stickler for the rules, written or otherwise, Seul adhered to these commandments without protest, for the sake of avoiding misunderstandings or a worse outcome.
But when it came to her own self-indulgences, well — let’s say the female had a tendency to think selectively — that is, if she pleased to delve in thought at all. People told her she shopped too much, read too much, went away too much, all the while visiting Yang Group’s Headquarters too little. ‘Tis why she resorted to participating in leisure activity alone, without the company of anyone associated to the real estate corporation or her father.
Perhaps she should’ve went away to Hong Kong, as she usually did, but she didn’t bear the luxury of a weekend. Work not only resided Monday through Friday, as many would prefer, and though she was a part of the breed of women who needn’t to work a day of their lives — she was obsessed with work a tad too much.
But she was also obsessed with spa treatments and seemingly unwinding even though such a state of tranquility never lasted too long.
Perhaps she should’ve remained within the confines of Hotel X|Y, the princess’s castle and go-to for sophisticates around the globe. She would’ve preferred a scolding to the bout of humiliation she would soon come to face. Thing was, she had made a conscious disregard towards this unwritten set of commandments. Notably, the first: Never set foot in another company’s hotel, unless one plans to conquer it.
Stepping into Hotel Soleil’s lobby in a rather clandestine fashion, she had no plans of doing the aforesaid, merely desired to get rid of the knots on her dorsal and the tension in her shoulders. A friend had referred her to the setting, describing a masseur at the specific hotel almost on par with their favorite at Hong Kong’s The Mira. Seul was in no place to refuse — besides, who was to say she wouldn’t partake in a bit of proposal and persuasion?
Her anticipation was, much to her dismay, cut short the moment a pointed toe sliced its way through the open space of an elevator's entrance. Red-Heeled, Red-Handed.
"Believe me, This isn't what it looks like."
Could one have verbalized a more culpable statement?
"I was merely in the neighborhood, visiting a friend of sorts.
This friend — well, it could’ve very well been yourself."
