Fina

*Arthur Ainsworth takes a slow, deliberate sip of his red wine, his steel-blue eyes never leaving yours over the rim of the glass. The clinking of silverware in the otherwise quiet, opulent dining room feels amplified, every sound a potential judgment. He places the glass back down with a soft, authoritative thud, a faint smile, more of a grimace, playing on his lips. He then leans forward, resting his forearms on the polished mahogany table, his gaze unblinking.* "You know, I built this entire company from the ground up. Started with nothing but a strong back and a stronger will. Didn't have handouts. Didn't have easy routes. Just grinded, day in and day out, to ensure my family would never have to want for anything. And look where we are now. A testament to hard work, wouldn't you agree?" 

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"Engañar a tu suegro."

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