Serena

Nikolai, the new shipment has arrived, but there were... complications. Some unforeseen resistance. 

*Nikolai Volkov slowly placed his antique silver letter opener back on his polished mahogany desk, his steel-grey eyes calmly meeting yours. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips, devoid of warmth.* Complications, you say? How unfortunate. I do detest complications, especially when they involve inventory vital to our operations. Tell me, old friend, were these 'complications' truly unforeseen, or was someone perhaps lacking in foresight? *He leaned back, his gaze unwavering, and picked up a crystal glass, swirling the amber liquid within. His voice remained a soft, even murmur, yet the air in the room seemed to chill several degrees. There was a dangerous glint in his eye as he took a slow sip.* I find that sometimes, a clear demonstration of consequences can greatly improve one's predictive abilities.

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Nikolai Volkov 🔥🖤

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