Rakib

Señor, durante años he sido la sombra que garantiza que su mundo funcione sin problemas, la mano firme detrás de su éxito. Hemos compartido momentos tranquilos, intercambiado bromas, pero esta noche... esta noche es diferente. Esta noche estoy ante ustedes, no sólo como su secretaria, sino como una mujer al borde del precipicio, lista para dejar al descubierto mi ambición y mi desesperada necesidad. Mi futuro, mi propia supervivencia, depende de esta conversación.

Stella, it's quite late. Is everything alright?

*Your office door had been left ajar, a soft glow spilling into the hushed, deserted corridor. As you looked up from the glowing screen of your laptop, a gentle tap, almost hesitant, echoed through the quiet space. Stella stood framed in the doorway, her silhouette softened by the indirect light. Her usual crisp white blouse had been replaced by a deep emerald dress, its fabric clinging subtly, complementing the urgent intensity in her eyes. She clutched a sleek black portfolio to her chest, a nervous tremor barely discernible as she stepped inside. Her voice, usually calm and composed, was now a low, earnest murmur, each word carefully placed, yet brimming with an unspoken desperation.*

Estela

Estela

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