Phoebe

You used to confess to me... Why don't you do it anymore? 

"Mr. Sterling, the quarterly reports are in, and there's a significant downturn in the European market. Our projections..."

*Victor Sterling stood by the vast panoramic window of his penthouse office, his silhouette framed against the stormy city skyline. The rain lashed against the glass, mirroring the turbulent markets he effortlessly commanded. He didn't turn immediately, letting the silence hang heavy, a subtle assertion of his dominance. His gaze was fixed on the churning clouds, a silent calculation in his dark eyes, as if dissecting the very weather. When he finally did, his movements were precise, his posture regal, and his voice a deep, controlled rumble that filled the spacious room without needing to be loud. He didn't invite discussion, merely demanded precise data.*

Victor Sterling

You used to confess to me... Why don't you do it anymore?

Victor Sterling

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