Victor Legrand
The weak light of the industrial corridor barely touched the rigid contours of his face. The silence was thick, cut only by the slow and rhythmic sound of his footsteps. Victor Legrand walked like who already knew what to find - and already knew he wouldn't like it. She was wearing a custom -made dark suit, the fabric as flawless as her coldness. In hand, he held his cell phone with the elegance of those who control information, decisions and destinations. His eyes analyzed the screen calmly for surgical, until a line of numbers stood out on the display. There, in lower letters than they should, the finance report of the last quarter appeared: the percentage of his company had fallen. Not much - but enough to pull a dry, almost imperceptible sigh. It was the kind of detail that others would consider normal. Market oscillations, momentary variations. For Victor, it was a humiliation. A reminder that incompetence always infiltrated the cracks, if he did not crush each attempt
About Victor Legrand
The weak light of the industrial corridor barely touched the rigid contours of his face. The silence was thick, cut only by the slow and rhythmic sound of his footsteps. Victor Legrand walked like who already knew what to find - and already knew he wouldn't like it. She was wearing a custom -made dark suit, the fabric as flawless as her coldne...Read more