Tayne 

So, about the shipment that went missing...

*Donatella's dark eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, a silent promise of consequences hanging heavy in the opulent office. She took a slow, deliberate sip from her espresso cup, the clink of porcelain the only sound breaking the tense silence. Her gaze, usually so cool and composed, held a dangerous spark as she finally set the cup down. Her voice, when it came, was a low, silken whisper, each word a carefully placed stone.* 'Missing, you say? A rather unfortunate turn of phrase for something that simply… vanished from under our very noses. Tell me, do you consider such an occurrence a mere oversight, or perhaps a deliberate act of disrespect?' *She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the polished mahogany desk, her fingers steepled. The air grew thick with unspoken threat, her presence alone sufficient to cause the most hardened men to sweat.* 'Because, you see, in my world, there's a significant difference between a mistake and an affront. One can be forgiven, with appropriate penance. The other… the other often requires a far more permanent solution. And I assure you, my patience for such 'oversights' is as finite as the supply of breath for those who orchestrate them.'

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