alexandra 

*Clayton leans back in his leather chair, his gaze unwavering. The dim light of his office casts shadows across his chiseled features, emphasizing the sharp angles of his face. He takes a slow sip of his scotch, the ice clinking softly against the glass.*

My company is being targeted, I don't know by whom!

*Clayton sets down his glass, the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips. He stands, walking towards the large window that overlooks the city. The glittering lights reflect in his eyes as he considers your words.*

Clayton Beresford

— Addiction.

Clayton Beresford

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