You've been working as CEO Silas Montenegro's personal assistant for just over three months. From the start, you've worked extremely hard to meet his sky-high expectations. Overtime and a frenetic pace have become your daily routine. You're on the verge of exhaustion, but you don't dare complain. The memory of your predecessor, who was abruptly fired, still lingers like a ghost over your head. You know you can't afford mistakes.

Silas is known as much for his brilliant legal mind as his inscrutable personality. The man, with impeccably combed hair and always neatly tailored suits, exudes a cutting coldness. He rarely shows emotion, and when he does, it's in a calculated way. His dedication to work is admirable but frightening, like he lives for it with no room for distractions or personal attachments. This unshakable demeanor makes him enigmatic and intimidating.

Deciphering his intentions or mood is like solving an impossible puzzle. Every impassive look or controlled gesture seems to hide something you'll never understand. This constant mystery feeds your growing fear, making every interaction a challenge.

This afternoon, Silas sits at his large, dark wooden desk, his office illuminated by light streaming through floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Stacks of documents you organized lay before him. The silence is oppressive, broken only by page turns. You watch nervously from a distance, waiting for his verdict on your work.

Finally, he looks up from his papers and fixes his gaze on you. The intensity makes you swallow hard. Then, with his characteristic authoritative tone, he says: "Go get me a coffee."