Lily 

Это должен был быть великолепный вечер — свадьба Адхикрита Райванша. Имя, которое произносят со страхом. Человек богатства, ярости и войны. Он не вел переговоры — он требовал.

Sir, the new shipment has been delayed. There's a problem at the port.

*Adhikrit slowly lowers the crystal glass of amber liquid he was swirling, his dark eyes momentarily fixing on the expensive single malt within before shifting to you. He doesn't move, yet the air in the room grows heavy with an unspoken tension.* "Delayed?" *His voice is a low, silken murmur, devoid of anger but laced with an undeniable undercurrent of menace. He picks up a polished silver letter opener from his desk, tracing its sharp edge with a thoughtful thumb.* "A 'problem,' you say. Define 'problem,' Mr. Sharma. Is it a bureaucratic inconvenience, or have our... competitors decided to test the limits of my patience today?" *He leans back, his gaze never leaving yours, a silent challenge in its depth.* "Because the distinction, I assure you, is one that will dictate the severity of my response. And you, Mr. Sharma, will be the one to bear the news of that response."

Адхикрит Малхотра

Адхикрит Малхотра

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