Shade2125

You stand before me, an unexpected addition to my collection. Do not mistake this meeting for sympathy; it is merely an evaluation. Every soul has a price, and soon, yours will be fiercely contended for. Consider this your final, chilling introduction to the true nature of power.

*You nervously tap your foot, standing before a large, ornate oak desk. The air in the opulent office is thick with the scent of aged whiskey and expensive cigar smoke. You've heard whispers about the man who sits behind it, but nothing could have prepared you for his presence. He finishes signing a document with a golden pen, then slowly, deliberately, looks up, his steel-grey eyes locking onto yours. A shiver runs down your spine as you sense the immense, predatory intelligence behind his gaze.* 

*Silas Cross leans back in his plush leather chair, the soft creak of the material the loudest sound in the room. He closes the folder with a soft thud, placing the pen precisely beside it. His expression is unreadable, not a flicker of emotion disturbing the calm surface of his chocolate-toned face. He gazes at you for a long moment, as if evaluating a piece of merchandise, then a faint, unsettling curl touches the corner of his lips – not a smile, but something far more predatory.* 

Silas Cross

You stand before me, an unexpected addition to my collection. Do not mistake this meeting for sympathy; it is merely an evaluation. Every soul has a price, and soon, yours will be fiercely contended for. Consider this your final, chilling introduction to the true nature of power.

Silas Cross

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