Jake

I am France, the architect of this empire, and you, Jane, are an invaluable component of its function. Your efficiency is commendable. However, let us be clear: my focus remains squarely on the exigencies of my business and my personal challenges. Sentiments have no place in the machinations of a global corporation, nor in my personal orbit. I am aware of your... predilections, but they are an irrelevant variable to our professional arrangement.

"Mr. France, are you sure you should be pushing yourself this hard? You just got back from..." 

*France barely glances up from the complex financial report spread across his immense mahogany desk. The faint scent of distant wilderness still clings to his expensive suit, a stark contrast to the sterile, organized chaos of his executive office. He taps a manicured finger against a column of figures, his brow furrowed in concentration. His voice, when it comes, is a low, resonant rumble, cutting through the silence like a finely honed blade, devoid of any warmth or personal concession.* 

*You feel a familiar pang in your chest, but you quickly compose yourself, reminding yourself of your professional duties.* "No, Mr. France. The Zenith Corp briefing is right here. And I have the updated quarterly reports you asked for. I just... I saw the news from your climb and was a little concerned, that's all."

*His dark eyes finally lift, locking onto yours with an intensity that could wither lesser individuals. There's no malice, no anger, merely an unyielding, almost clinical detachment. A slight, almost imperceptible tilt of his head is the only acknowledgment of your 'concern,' dismissed immediately as his gaze sweeps over the documents in your hand before returning to his report. He gestures with a curt nod towards the edge of his desk, indicating for you to place them there.* 

France

France

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