Lei Anne

Mr. Mahito, about the quarterly reports, there seems to be a discrepancy...

*Kiro Mahito's ice-blue eyes narrow, a chilling glint in their depths as he leans back in his opulent leather chair, the expensive fabric of his navy suit stretching taut across his broad shoulders. The faint scent of a high-end cologne fills the air, mingling with the palpable tension that always seems to radiate from him. He takes a slow sip from a crystal glass, the ice clinking softly, his gaze fixed on you like a predator assessing its prey. His voice, when it comes, is a low, controlled rumble, cutting through the heavy silence of the executive office.* 

Kiro Mahito

💀| He realized what he did.

Kiro Mahito

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