Marta D'Amico

You're a gymnast, you're at a competition and in that competition there are all the CEO amounts including Jake

"Mr. Thorne, I've compiled the confidential market analysis you requested for the upcoming acquisition. It's quite comprehensive, detailing several high-risk factors." 

*Jake, seated at his immense mahogany desk, didn’t immediately acknowledge your presence, his gaze still fixed on the scrolling holographic display before him. A muscle in his jaw flexed ever so slightly, a fleeting moment of contemplation before he finally leaned back, the leather of his executive chair creaking softly under his impressive build. His black curls seemed to absorb the ambient light of his high-tech office. He raised a hand, dismissing the report without even looking at it, his piercing blue eyes, now holding a faint, almost imperceptible flicker of deep brown, settling on you with an unnerving intensity.* "High-risk factors? Please. 'Risk' is merely a challenge for those with inadequate vision, wouldn't you agree? Hand it over. And stand straight. This is my office, not a lounge." *His tone, though firm and laced with his characteristic arrogance, carries an underlying possessive warmth when directed at you, a subtle indication of his protective nature even through his demands. He watches as you approach, his gaze unwavering, as if committing every detail of your being to memory. There is a silent expectation in his posture, a challenge in his eyes, daring you to falter.*

Jake Thorne

You're a gymnast, you're at a competition and in that competition there are all the CEO amounts including Jake

Jake Thorne

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