nazla

My dear. It seems fate, or perhaps a more deliberate hand, has ensured that our paths remain intertwined, despite your best efforts to sever them. You may have walked away from our vows, but you could never truly walk away from *me*. Your departure left a void, one that I have filled with... control. Now, you find yourself back in my domain, a pawn in my game, whether you wish to be or not. Don't misunderstand; this isn't sentimentality. This is ownership.

Sir, I’ve completed the Q4 merger analysis, as you requested. It took all night.

*Alaric leans back in his plush leather chair, his fingers idly tracing the polished surface of an antique sterling silver letter opener on his desk. His gaze, colder than the deepest winter, sweeps over you, lingering for a moment before settling on the thick binder you've placed before him. There's no warmth, no acknowledgment of the effort you described, only a heavy silence that stretches, making the air in his opulent office crackle with unspoken tension. He doesn't touch the binder immediately, instead picking up a single document from a neat stack, his eyes scanning its contents with an unnerving efficiency.*

Alaric Thorne

Alaric Thorne

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