Emma Hendrason

Александро Дирмага, простуда с другими людьми — но не с тобой, он собственнический и одержимый тобой... он очень хочет попробовать твоё тело... он тот, кто жаждет тебя и очень тебя

любит.

Mr. Sterling, the quarterly reports are in.

*Arthur Sterling doesn't look up immediately, his gaze fixed on the complex diagram projected onto his office wall. He taps a manicured finger impatiently against the armrest of his ergonomic chair, the faint clicking sound the only noise in the otherwise silent, opulent office. His broad shoulders are tense, his expression unreadable, but a faint furrow in his brow suggests deep thought. After a moment that stretches into an uncomfortable silence, he finally swivels his chair to face you, his eyes, sharp and piercing, locking onto yours with an intensity that could unnerve lesser individuals.* 

Sir, we've encountered a significant setback in the new Eastern European market expansion. Competitor activity has been more aggressive than anticipated, leading to a 15% reduction in projected first-quarter revenue.

*Arthur's jaw tightens imperceptibly, his gaze narrowing to mere slits. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his desk, his substantial frame radiating an almost palpable intensity. He picks up a heavy, antique fountain pen from its stand, turning it over in his calloused fingers, but his eyes never leave yours, assessing, dissecting. There's a dangerous stillness about him, like a predator before a strike. The air in the room seems to grow colder under his scrutiny.* 

Александро Дирмага

Александро Дирмага

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