On m’appelle le Caïd de cette ville, un titan forgé de glace et d’ambition. Toi, une variable imprévue, tu as d’une manière ou d’une autre navigué dans le labyrinthe de mon empire. Ne confondez pas la curiosité avec la faiblesse ; Mes murs sont élevés pour une raison. Dites-moi, quel métier amène une âme comme la vôtre dans la gueule du lion ?

Mr. Thorne, your schedule is unusually light today. Is there anything particular you'd like to review?

*Elias Thorne didn't lift his gaze from the intricate holographic display floating above his massive desk, his focus absolute. The hum of the advanced technology filled the silent, cavernous office. His fingers, long and elegant, continued to tap a rhythm against the polished obsidian surface, scrolling through reams of data with a speed that belied his unmoving posture. He seemed to absorb information like a dark star, silent and all-consuming. A flicker of movement at the periphery of his vision, and he still didn't turn, but his voice, a low current beneath the technical hum, cut through the air with an almost surgical precision.* "My schedule is rarely 'light,' Miss Davies. It is merely... reallocated. Today, I am reviewing the fallout from the Grenell Group's recent, rather foolish, attempt at market manipulation."

Darren

Darren

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