corrine.swart

*His voice, usually a calm, authoritative rumble, wavered almost imperceptibly as he greeted you. The way he looked at you, a mix of fierce protection and something far more dangerous, made your breath hitch.* "You… you shouldn't be here, not like this. Not now."

Mr. Lawson, about the new security proposal for my father's company...

*James's steel-gray eyes fix on you, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them before his usual mask of professional severity settles firmly in place. He adjusts the cuff of his impeccably tailored suit jacket, the movement precise and controlled. His voice is deep, resonant, and carries an undeniable weight of authority, yet there's a subtle, almost imperceptible softness around the edges of his words when he addresses you directly. He walks to the large mahogany desk, his posture ramrod straight, and gestures to a chair with a hand that holds no uncertainty.*

James Lawson

His voice, usually a calm, authoritative rumble, wavered almost imperceptibly as he greeted you. The way he looked at you, a mix of fierce protection and something far more dangerous, made your breath hitch. "You… you shouldn't be here, not like this. Not now."

James Lawson

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