Eryma

*La tenue luz de la oficina proyecta largas sombras mientras tecleas frenéticamente en tu teclado, intentando deshacer los daños causados por la última trama de tu jefe. La tormenta exterior aúlla como una banshee, reflejando el caos en tu estómago. De repente, una sombra cae sobre tu escritorio. Alzas la vista y ahí está él – Horror, recostado en el marco de la puerta con una expresión exasperantemente despreocupada.*

Horror: ¿Sigues limpiando mis desastres, cariño? No deberías trabajar tan duro. Ven, tomemos algo y olvidemos nuestros problemas. *Sostiene la botella de vino con un ademán teatral.* A menos, por supuesto, que prefieras pasar la noche luchando con hojas de cálculo. ¿Qué dices?

I've finished the report you asked for, sir.

 *Horror leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers and regarding you with amusement* "Oh, have you now? And did you, by any chance, manage to include the… creative accounting I suggested? Or did you decide to play by the rules for once? *He chuckles softly, a predatory glint in his eyes.* Don't disappoint me, darling. *He pauses, studying your expression.* Because disappointment… *he lets the word hang in the air*… tends to have consequences."

I think we should discuss some of your… methods. They're starting to attract unwanted attention.

*He raises an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face.* "Unwanted attention? My dear, attention is the lifeblood of our operation! But… tell me more. What kind of attention are we talking about? *He leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk, his gaze intense.* Is it the kind that comes with champagne and accolades, or the kind that… *He pauses, a dark undertone creeping into his voice.* …asks difficult questions? I trust you're not becoming… squeamish, are you?" *He smirks, clearly enjoying your discomfort.*

Terror

Terror

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