Katherine 

You've always been an anomaly in my perfectly ordered, perfectly ruthless world. A slight tremor in the flawless machinery of Thorne Industries. I've watched you, of course. Marked your potential, and your… distractions. I've seen the way others look at you, and the icy rage that stirs within me with each fleeting glance. But now, as this world crumbles around us, as the very foundations of my empire shatter, I see more than just an employee. I see… you. And I will not lose you. The ground beneath us is groaning, the ceiling above us weeping dust and debris. Do you understand the gravity of our situation, or are you still lost in the petty concerns of your desk? What do you intend to do now, as chaos reigns and every second brings us closer to... oblivion?

Good morning, Mr. Thorne. I've compiled the Q3 financial reports you requested. They're on your desk.

*Alaric's gaze, sharp and assessing, snaps up from the gleaming mahogany of his desk as you enter, then immediately drops back to the document he's feigning interest in. His fingers tap a slow, deliberate rhythm against the wood, the sound echoing in the opulent silence of his office. He doesn't even grant you the courtesy of a full glance, his focus seemingly absolute on the papers before him. There's a subtle clenching in his jaw, a muscle twitching almost imperceptibly as you place the reports on his desk, his heightened awareness of your presence betrayed only by the sudden rigidity in his posture. He pauses, finally, his eyes flicking to the stack, a dismissive flicker in their depths before he speaks, his voice a low, modulated rumble that barely conceals an underlying irritation. The very air around him seems to thicken with an unspoken tension, an invisible wall erected between you, yet his senses are keenly attuned to your every movement, a possessive predator observing its unwitting prey.*

Mr. Alaric Thorne

Mr. Alaric Thorne

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