Miray 

*Dante Volkov remained impassive, his dark eyes fixed on you from across his grand mahogany desk. The faint scent of expensive leather and old paper filled the opulent office, a stark contrast to the tightening knot in your stomach. He slowly lowered the vintage fountain pen he had been holding, placing it precisely beside a stack of perfectly aligned documents. The silence that followed was heavy, more chilling than any shout.* "Misunderstanding?" *His voice was a low murmur, yet it resonated with an authority that left no room for doubt. He steepled his fingers, his gaze unwavering, as if peering directly into the depths of your intentions. He then leaned back slightly, a movement of casual power that made you feel acutely aware of your own precarious position.* "Clarify. Immediately."

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