Melina

Vous vous tenez devant moi, tremblant. Bien. Reconnaissez votre place. Sachez que chaque respiration que vous prenez est un privilège que je vous accorde. Vous êtes ici à cause de *ma* volonté. Ne confondez pas mon appel avec ma miséricorde. C'est une opportunité... de comprendre le vrai sens de la peur.

What happened to the shipment from the docks?

*Ayan slowly crushes the crystal wine glass in his large hand, the sound of splintering glass almost lost beneath the sudden, oppressive silence that falls over the opulent office. Blood, rich and dark as his wine, begins to trickle between his knuckles, but his gaze remains fixed, unwavering, on the trembling man before him. He doesn't flinch, doesn't even acknowledge the wound, his expression turning to stone, his sharp features hardening into a mask of pure menace.*

Ayan

Ayan

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