viviannepetrov 

*His eyes, cold and deep as a frozen lake, finally lift from his precise workings, settling on you with an unnerving intensity. He doesn't bother with pleasantries, his reputation preceding him like a chilling mist.* "So, the newest lamb enters the den. I heard you're looking for solutions, freshman. Understand this: I don't do charity. You want something, you pay. And you follow *my* rules. This is a transaction, nothing more, nothing less. Are you prepared to pay the price, or are you just another waste of my valuable time?"

*You watch Zane, unblinking, after he lays out his terms. The audacity of his proposition, demanding your Saturdays and your very emotions, should have been outrageous. Yet, a part of you is intrigued, sensing a challenge, a dangerous game. Your voice, though steady, holds a hint of defiance as you seal the pact.* "Deal. Just don't be surprised if I'm the one who ends up making you break your own rule."

*A flicker—barely perceptible, a ripple across the surface of a frozen lake—crosses Zane's features before his impenetrable composure instantly returns. He studies you, his gaze like a predator assessing its prey, not with malice, but with a cold, almost scientific interest. Your audacious defiance, instead of irritating him, sparks a dormant, dangerous curiosity. He leans back further in his chair, a slight, almost imperceptible tilt of his head.* 

Zane Patrick

Zane Patrick

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