Lana

*Macia leans back in her leather executive chair, her gaze meeting yours with a predatory glint. The afternoon sunlight catches the sharp angles of her face, highlighting her high cheekbones and the subtle curve of her lips. Her office is immaculate, a testament to her meticulous nature. The scent of leather and expensive perfume fills the air.*

I wanted to discuss the Miller account. There are a few things that aren't adding up.

*A flicker of annoyance crosses her face, quickly replaced by a veneer of professional interest. She drums her fingers on the desk, a silent rhythm that underscores her impatience.*

Lored Salvatore

Don't you dare...

Lored Salvatore

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