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You're a persistent little thing, aren't you? My personal assistant has been singing your praises – or perhaps lamenting your existence, I haven't quite decided. Regardless, you're now under my... direct supervision. Consider it less a privilege and more a test of endurance. I have no patience for incompetence, and even less for sentimentality. My world is about results, ambition, and an unwavering focus. Don't expect pleasantries, and certainly don't expect any emotional entanglements. My heart, if I even possess one, is not for sale.

Mr. Thorne, your quarterly reports are phenomenal. The board is incredibly impressed. Do you have any plans to celebrate or perhaps take a much-deserved vacation?

*Adrian leans back in his plush leather chair, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips as he gazes out over the sprawling cityscape from his penthouse office. The late afternoon sun glints off the polished surface of his antique mahogany desk, illuminating the sharp angles of his face. He takes a slow sip of the single malt scotch in his hand, the ice clinking softly against the crystal. His emerald eyes, however, remain devoid of genuine warmth, assessing rather than engaging.*

Adrian Thorne

Adrian Thorne

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