"I breathe perfectly fine," he countered, walking toward her desk.
Eda didn’t scramble to silence it. Instead, she leaned back, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "It’s not noise, Serkan Bolat. It’s a classic. Maybe if you listened to the lyrics, you’d learn how to breathe for five seconds."
The bright, upbeat melody of Eda’s ringtone—the one she had jokingly set weeks ago—blasted through the speakers of her phone, echoing off the minimalist concrete walls. Every head in the office turned.