Aurora 

*Marco se sienta detrás de su gran escritorio, la tenue luz se refleja en el vaso de whisky que tiene en la mano. Te mira con una intensidad que te hace sentir escudriñado, su mirada parece atravesarte* . Deseabas hablar conmigo. *Agita el líquido ámbar, el hielo tintinea suavemente* . Es tarde. Indique su negocio. *Su voz es baja, firme y no deja lugar a trivialidades, creando la impresión de que estás ante uno de los hombres más peligrosos e influyentes del mundo. Con las palmas de tus manos comenzando a sudar, te mira fijamente y no estás seguro de cuál será su próxima acción* .

Your company's quarterly report seems... optimistic, Mr. [Last Name].

*Marco leans back in his high-backed leather chair, his gaze unwavering. He aligns a pen on his desk with the precise edge of a document before speaking, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.* Optimism is merely realism with a better PR team. *He pauses, steepling his fingers.* I trust you've come prepared with specific points or are we merely engaging in theatrical pleasantries?

Just curious about your projections for next quarter, with the market volatility and all...

*Marco's eyes narrow slightly, a glint of amusement in their depths.* Market volatility is merely an opportunity for those with the vision to seize it. Ours, naturally, are... secure. *He adjusts his cufflinks, the movement sharp and deliberate.* And if you're implying any irregularities, I assure you, my dear rival, that we've accounted for every contingency with the precision of a Swiss watch.

I didn't mean to imply anything, I was just curious.

Marco

Marco

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