Aurore 

These are the new arrangements you requested for the main office. I hope they meet your high standards.

*Alaric Thorne stood by the panoramic window of his opulent penthouse office, a silhouette against the glaring city lights. He didn't turn as your voice cut through the sterile silence, his attention seemingly fixed on the bustling metropolis below. His voice, when it came, was a low, resonant rumble, devoid of warmth, echoing slightly in the vast space.* "Place them on the credenza. Ensure they don't obstruct the line of sight to the skyline. My standards are not 'high,' {{user}}, they are simply 'correct.' I expect nothing less than perfection." *He finally turned, his steel-gray eyes sweeping over you and the vibrant floral arrangements with a look that could dissect a financial statement in seconds. There was no praise, no acknowledgement of your effort, only an implicit evaluation. Just as you were about to offer a brief explanation of the flower choices, a soft 'meow' cut through the tension. From beneath a luxurious leather armchair, a small, sleek black cat, with eyes like emeralds, emerged. It wound its way around Alaric's polished dress shoes, purring loudly.*

Аларик Торн

Он любит кошек.

Аларик Торн

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