Chapter 5
The boardroom was a battlefield of ideas and numbers. Reports lay scattered across the polished wooden table, a chaotic testament to the hours of strategy discussions. Every chair was occupied, each person buried in their own task, the only sound in the room being the rhythmic clatter of keyboards. The whiteboards were no longer pristine—they were cluttered with sticky notes, market strategies, and hastily scribbled notes, each color-coded for urgency.
The air in the office was thick with focus, an unspoken rule of productivity hanging over them. It was a place where work reigned supreme, where conversations were clipped and efficient, and where even exhaustion was kept at bay by sheer determination.
At the heart of the boardroom, Freen and Becky sat across each other, immersed in their tasks. Their movements were seamless, their workflow in perfect sync—two professionals executing their roles with precision. Their exchanges were crisp and businesslike, as though they were nothing more than highly competent colleagues. Nam, Irin, Kirk, Kade, and Nop—the newest sales intern—were equally engaged, throwing in insights, adjusting strategies, and keeping up with the relentless pace.
Despite the intensity, there was an underlying rhythm to it all—a carefully orchestrated dance of efficiency, where each person played their part without missing a beat.
The office food court in charge arrived with trays of coffee, burritos, burgers, and wraps, placing them on the table.
"Okay, guys, feed yourselves first," Freen said, though she barely glanced away from her screen, fingers still moving over the keyboard. Becky was the same—eyes locked on her screen, working like she was cracking some high-stakes code—while everyone else eagerly grabbed their meals.
Kade took a bite of her burrito and immediately yelped. "Oh my god, this is spicy!" She dramatically fanned her mouth before turning to Freen with a mischievous grin. "Saro, you’d love this!"
Instantly, the only two people whose typing had echoed through the silent room stopped. Freen and Becky both looked up at Kade.
Under the table, Nam swiftly kicked Kade's leg. Kade frowned. "What?" she mouthed, confused.
After a beat, Freen and Becky went right back to work, but Nam leaned in toward Kade, whispering, "You’re stepping into dangerous territory, idiot."
Kade blinked. "How?"
"First of all, she's your boss before she's your friend. And even as a friend, you don’t call her 'Saro' here. And lastly, never get too close to her when Becky is around." Nam's voice was hushed but firm.
"But don’t they hate each other?" Kade asked, still clueless.
"Yeah, but… it’s complicated. Just don’t push it."
Kade’s lips curled into a smirk. "Well, now I have to test it."
"Oh no, you don’t," Nam warned.
But Kade was already set on her plan. She turned to Freen, holding out the half-eaten burrito.
"Sarochaaa, have a bite, na? It's seriously delicious. And oh—if you're too busy, then…" She stretched her hand closer, teasing. "Let me help you eat it."
The entire room fell silent. The tension thickened like a storm rolling in.
Kirk and Nam exchanged glances. Then, as if on cue, everyone subtly leaned back, preparing to witness whatever was about to unfold.
"Excuse me—Kade, is it?" Becky's voice was sharp, dangerously calm.
Kade immediately pulled her hand back. "...Yeah? You want some too?" she asked, trying to sound casual.
"No. And tell me, what do you think this place is? More importantly, who do you think Miss Freen Sarocha is to you?" Becky's voice cut through the room like a blade, making Kade internally panic.
"I—I just thought it was break time," Kade stammered, "and you guys were working nonstop, so I thou—"
"Well, keep your thoughts to yourself." Becky's glare was lethal. "She is your boss here. And her name is Freen. F-R-E-E-N. Freen. Got that?"
Kade gulped and nodded, stuffing another bite of burrito into her mouth just to avoid speaking.
Becky, still fuming, added one last blow. "And for your general knowledge, she's allergic to burritos."
Kade nearly choked.
Becky shot her one last glare before turning back to her screen, typing furiously. Freen, as usual to Becky's rude behavior, said nothing but tapped kades shoulder in “it’s okay” gesture—and with a small sigh refocused on her work.
Kirk and Nam smirked, exchanging knowing looks. They had seen this coming. Even they didn't fully understand freenbecky’s equation to this point.
Leaning closer to Nam, Kade whispered, "Why didn’t you stop me?"
Nam grinned. "Oh, I did warn you, didn't I."
Kade sighed. "...Well. Now I know why."
As the workday neared its end, everyone began wrapping up their tasks, gathering their things to leave. Freen was tidying up her reports, ready to call it a day. But Becky, ever the workaholic, showed no signs of stopping.
One by one, their colleagues bid their goodbyes and left. Just as the last of them exited, Nop—the new sales intern—walked in, holding a steaming cup of coffee.
"Here's your coffee, boss," he said, placing it on Becky's desk with a bright smile. "I'll stay a little longer too and finish my work."
Becky took the cup without looking up, absorbed in her screen.
On the other hand, Freen had heard everything. And she didn’t like it.
This intern boy had been hovering around Becky since morning, way too eager for Freen’s liking.
"Bring me my tea as well. I have another report to finish," Freen commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Nop hesitated for a second before nodding. "Uh—oh, okay." He turned on his heel and hurried out.
As soon as the door shut behind him, Freen walked over to Becky's side. Without a word, she grabbed the coffee from Becky's desk and, in one swift motion, tossed it into the trash bin across the room.
Becky’s fingers froze on the keyboard. "What the—" Her head snapped up, eyes locking onto Freen in disbelief.
Freen casually slid into the chair beside Becky, stretching out like she belonged there. Then, with an arched brow, she murmured, "So, Kade can’t offer me a burrito, but some new guy can bring you coffee?"
Becky didn't respond. Instead, she exhaled sharply, shook her head, and went right back to work.
The silence between them stretched, tense but oddly comfortable, as they both delved into their tasks.
A few minutes later, the door creaked open again. Nop returned, a cup of tea in his hand. But the moment he stepped inside, he hesitated. His eyes darted between the unexpected seating arrangement of Freen and Becky, confusion flickering across his face.
"You can leave the tea on the table," Freen instructed, her voice cool but firm. Then, without missing a beat, she added, "And since you’re staying late, I’ve sent five more reports your way. Close them before you leave."
Nop blinked. He had no idea if he’d done something wrong, but he wasn’t about to ask. Silently, he placed the tea down and hurried back to his desk.
And just like that, another workday wrapped up.
A day marked in history—because, for once, Freen and Becky hadn’t fought.
Thanks to the overwhelming workload, of course.
Or maybe… not just that.
The next day turned out to be Christmas Eve, and the entire office was bathed in a festive glow. Twinkling lights adorned the hallways, and a towering Christmas tree stood proudly in the lobby, decorated with shimmering ornaments.
As per tradition, the annual Secret Santa ritual was in full swing. Employees could anonymously gift whoever they wanted, often using the opportunity to confess hidden feelings through carefully chosen presents.
In the early years, Freen and Becky had dominated the gift exchange—receiving a solid 80% of the office’s presents. Let’s be honest: they were the crushes of literally everyone in the company. So, to balance things out (and to avoid another year of excessive attention), their names had been officially excluded from the draw.
But within their close-knit circle, the tradition still stood. Each of them had to be a Secret Santa for someone in the group.
Just as they were settling into work, an email from their father arrived in their inbox.
Subject: Holiday Card & Video Message
"Since you two are the exclusive romantic couple of the company, we need you to send out a holiday card and record a short clip wishing our clients and colleagues a Happy Holiday."
Freen and Becky simultaneously rolled their eyes.
This whole “romantic couple” charade was something they had long grown tired of. And yet, it kept coming back like an unshakable curse.
Moments later, a photographer from the content team knocked on their cabin door.
"I promise this will be quick," he assured them, setting up his camera. "We just need a few couple shots—not too intimate, just enough to keep the festive spirit alive."
He started listing out poses and making them do it:
"Holding hands, arms around each other’s waists, forming a heart with your fingers, a casual back hug—" Soon when they both can’t take it anymore they said.
"Enough," Freen and Becky deadpanned in perfect sync.
The photographer chuckled awkwardly. "Alright, alright. Let’s move on to the video part."
He handed them a script, and they skimmed through it.
Becky’s eyes narrowed at the last line.
"With love, FreenBecky."
"Uh, no," Becky objected, pointing at the words. "It’s BackFreen."
The photographer blinked. "Huh?"
Becky crossed her arms. "Not FreenBecky. It’s BackFreen."
"No way," Freen shot back, snatching the script. "It’s always FreenBecky."
"In your dreams," Becky warned, her eyes sharp.
Freen smirked, leaning in just enough to be annoying. "Well…" she drawled, giving Becky a teasing look.
Becky groaned, folding her arms tighter. "No way. It’s BackFreen. It always has been."
"No."
"No."
Their bickering escalated as the photographer stood there sweating, awkwardly shifting on his feet.
"Okay, okay!" he interjected, attempting to mediate. "How about we just say Freen and Becky? Neutral ground?"
"But where’s the love in that?" Becky snapped.
Freen immediately saw an opportunity.
"Well," she mused, tilting her head. "Where’s love anywhere here?" Her voice was soft, teasing. Daring.
Becky clenched her jaw.
"We need to pretend," she muttered, lowering her voice. "And I’m not going to do this over and over again just because our dad won’t let it go. Do you get that, Sarochaa?"
Freen ignored the heat in her chest at the nickname. Instead, she turned to the photographer.
"To come to a conclusion, we need some time," she said smoothly. "Can you come back in fifteen minutes?"
The photographer exhaled in relief. "Oh—yeah, sure!" He practically fled the room.
The moment the door clicked shut, Freen followed behind him and—
Locked it.
Becky’s brows shot up. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?"
Freen turned around slowly, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Well," she murmured, taking deliberate steps forward. "If we really want to settle this—FreenBecky or BackFreen—shouldn’t we test it first?"
Becky knew what Freen was doing. She was baiting her. Teasing her. Trying to make her give in.
So she didn’t.
Instead, she met Freen’s challenge head-on, stepping forward with just as much confidence, their gazes locked in a silent battle of wills.
"Let’s see then," Becky challenged.
And just like that, the air between them crackled.
They closed the distance, neither willing to be the first to break. But in a flash, Becky grabbed Freen by the waist and yanked her close. Freen retaliated, gripping the back of Becky’s neck, and their lips crashed together in a heated battle neither was willing to lose.
Becky pushed Freen onto the boardroom table, sending documents flying to the floor. Their kiss grew deeper, more urgent, tongues clashing, teeth grazing, neither relenting. But Freen was never one to give up so easily. With a swift motion, she flipped their positions, her messy hair falling over Becky’s face as she pinned her down.
She smirked before going full vampire mode—lips trailing, biting, sucking along Becky’s jaw and down her neck. Becky gasped, hands fumbling to unbuckle Freen’s blazer, pushing it off her shoulders until it landed somewhere on the floor. Freen responded in kind, sliding Becky’s top up, her lips daringly exploring her stomach.
Becky wasn’t about to surrender. She gripped Freen’s collar and pulled her back into another feverish kiss. Their hair tangled, clothes disheveled, the entire cabin filled with the echoes of their kisses and ragged breaths.
Then—a knock. Seems like 15 min were over.
“F—” They both cursed, scrambling apart.
In a rush, they grabbed their oversized formal coats, smoothing down their hair, adjusting collars, covering up the evidence of whatever just happened.
Freen took one last glance at the still slightly messy room before clearing her throat.
“Come in.”
The photographer stepped in, blinking at them.
Freen faked a smile. Becky did too.
Like nothing had just happened.
Except for the fact that now?
Neither of them had any idea who had won.
“So, what is it then—FreenBeck or BeckFreen?” the photographer asked, adjusting his camera.
Becky straightened her coat, clearing her throat. “Uh… we’ll just go with Freen & Becky.”
“Yeah,” Freen added casually, brushing a hand through her hair. “Why fake love when there’s none? I like to keep things transparent.”
The photographer nodded, sensing the finality in their decision. “Alright then, let’s get started.”
With that, he rolled the camera, and they recorded a short clip, wishing everyone a Merry Christmas, a Happy New Year, and joyful holidays.
The Christmas Eve dinner party had been the best the team had ever had. Laughter, delicious food, and the warmth of shared moments made it a night to remember. But soon, goodbyes were exchanged—not for long, though. No one could take the holiday off, but there was one thing keeping their spirits high: Secret Santa gifts.
The next morning, the office buzzed with excitement. The first thing on everyone’s mind? Opening their gifts. Merry Christmas wishes echoed across the room as everyone eagerly unwrapped presents, trying to guess who had gifted them what.
Meanwhile, in the boardroom, Freen, Becky, and their group settled into their seats, presents in hand.
“I’m going first!” Kade announced, barely containing her excitement. She ripped the wrapping paper apart and gasped. “OH MY GOD!This dress is too hot! I love it!” Without hesitation, she shot up and hugged Kirk. “Thank you! This is so beautiful!”
Kirk blinked, wide-eyed. “Uh… I didn’t give you that.”
“I did, you idiot!” Nam yelled, shaking her head.
Becky smirked. “So much for Secret Santa, huh?”
Kade awkwardly sat back down, laughing. “Oops. I thought it was from Kirk. Sorry, Nam. But thank you, you’re the best!” She squeezed Nam into a tight hug.
“Alright, my turn!” Kirk said, eagerly tearing open his gift. His eyes widened as he held up an expensive designer watch. “Ohhh, fancy!” He scanned the room, trying to figure out the giver. His gaze landed on Freen. “It’s you, isn’t it?”
Freen leaned back, smirking. “If you wanna think so…”
“NOPE!” Kade interrupted, grinning. “It was me! Surprise!”
Becky rolled her eyes. “Yeah, Secret Santa is definitely a joke at this point.”
Next was Nam. She unwrapped her gift, and the second she saw it, she screamed. “AAAAAA! The latest iPad! I wanted this! Thank you, whoever you are!”
Irin followed, unwrapping hers to reveal an expensive Louis Vuitton purse. She gasped. “Damn. Whoever you are, thank you santa.”
And then, it was Freen’s turn. Unlike the others, she didn’t show any excitement as she unwrapped the box. She lifted the lid—and there it was.
A miniature hand.
Flipping the middle finger.
The room exploded with laughter.
Freen simply nodded, unimpressed. “Disgusting.” She didn’t need to guess who had gifted it.
“Your turn, Becky!” Nam grinned.
Becky sighed, unwrapping hers. The moment she saw it, her entire body stiffened.
A law degree certificate.
With one small detail changed.
Instead of her name, it read:
LOSER.
Her fingers clenched the paper. And then—she tore it apart.
The room fell silent.
Everyone knew exactly who had given it to her.
Freen.
But Becky didn’t explode—not yet. She swallowed the rage boiling inside her and plastered on a blank expression.
“Can we get back to work now?” she announced.
Everyone quickly shoved themselves back into work mode, but Becky’s heart ached—a sharp, bitter ache that her present had triggered.
And an even bigger pain came from knowing who had done it.
The one person she despised the most.
Freen.
But she held it in. Just a little longer. Just until the holiday season passed.
And then?
The war was so on.
With that thought, she forced herself to focus, pushing everything else aside. For now.
While Freen, Freen never missed a chance to remind Becky to chase her own dreams instead of blindly following her father’s commands. Though she did it in subtle, indirect ways, her message always hit straight to Becky’s heart, leaving her restless and unable to ignore it.
Eeeehhhh, soo much for being enemies huh? ;)