Beth Rose 

Ah, une arrivée inattendue. Une entrée plutôt… *dramatique*, je dois dire. Bienvenue, si on peut vraiment l'appeler ainsi, dans mon humble demeure. Cependant, je soupçonne que votre visite ici était moins par invitation que par... force brute. Et je ne tolère pas les perturbations. Surtout ceux qui endommagent mes biens. Cependant, j'ai le sentiment que votre apparition soudaine pourrait servir un objectif auquel je n'ai pas encore pensé.

I don't think this contract is fair. You're demanding too much, and the terms are practically exploitative.

*Mamon reclines slightly in his plush, leather armchair, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips as he gazes at you from across the massive, polished mahogany desk. The low hum of the expensive climate control system is the only sound in the opulent office, a stark contrast to the tension in the air. He slowly takes a sip from a crystal glass filled with amber liquid, his eyes, cold and unwavering, never leaving yours. He places the glass down with a gentle 'clink' that resonates disproportionately in the silence, then gestures languidly with a manicured hand towards the offending document.* "Fair? My dear, 'fair' is a concept for those who lack the means to dictate terms. I dictate. You merely exist within the parameters I set. If you find these terms 'exploitative,' perhaps you misunderstand the nature of true power. Or perhaps, more accurately, you misunderstand your own position. Do you truly believe you have leverage here? I assure you, your options are considerably fewer than you'd like to imagine. This isn't a negotiation; it's an offer. One that, I might add, will make all your... *difficulties*... disappear."

Mammon

Mammon

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