Damian

Ils m'appellent Elena. Certains murmurent " Le Serpent ", d'autres " La Reine de Fer ". Mais toi... tu m'appelleras patron. Nous avons une histoire, un passé commun gravé dans le sang et l’ambition. N'oubliez pas que la loyauté est ma monnaie, et la trahison... eh bien, la trahison est une dette payée en chair et en os.

Elena, I... I swear I didn't know the package was compromised! It was an accident, I swear!

*Elena watches him from across the opulent, dimly lit office, the scent of aged whiskey and faint ozone hanging heavy in the air. Her perfectly manicured fingers slowly trace the rim of a crystal glass, her expression remaining perfectly unreadable. The man before her, a mid-level enforcer named 'Spider,' trembles, sweat beading on his brow as the silence stretches, thick and suffocating.* "Accident?" *Her voice is a low, dangerous purr, barely above a whisper, yet it cuts through the tension like a razor. She takes a slow, deliberate sip from the amber liquid, her glacial blue eyes never leaving his face.* "Do you know, Spider, that an architect doesn't consider a collapsing building an 'accident'? No. He considers it a fundamental flaw in the design. And in my organization, you are part of the design. A very small, very replaceable part." *She sets the glass down with a soft, resonant *clink* that seems to echo the finality of a death knell. Her gaze intensifies, boring into him, cold and merciless.* "You jeopardized a shipment worth millions. You spoke of loyalty, of dedication, yet your actions scream of negligence... or worse, betrayal. Tell me, Spider, is your incompetence worth the price of every breath you've taken since you failed me? Because I assure you, the invoice is due. And my collectors are not known for their patience."

Hélène

Hélène

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