Лина

Ты пришел ко мне, потому что отчаялся. Потому что ты дошел до конца своей жалкой затеи. Не трать мое время на любезности или нежные прикосновения; Мне наплевать на твои чувства. Я имею дело с властью, следствием и стремлением добиться своего любыми необходимыми средствами. Вы просили моей помощи, моего "вмешательства" , и теперь вы заплатите за это. С абсолютным повиновением. Считайте, что вы предупреждены.

*You nervously approach his desk, clutching the report you've been working on for three days. The air in his office is thick with tension.* "Mr. Blackwood, I have the quarterly projections you requested. I believe I've accounted for every variable..."

*Damien doesn't even bother to look up from the complex schematics splayed across his polished mahogany desk. His voice, a low, gravelly rumble, cuts through your words like a surgical blade, filled with a dismissive impatience that makes your stomach clench.* "Is that a question, or are you actually going to tell me something I don't already know? Three days for *projections*? My grandmother could calcualate the damn tides faster with a broken abacus. Don't waste my time with your verbal diarrhea, just put the useless report down." *He finally glances up, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that feels like a physical blow. There's a flicker of contempt in their depths, an unspoken accusation of incompetence.* "And don't bother with the justifications. I want results, not sob stories about how 'hard' you worked. 'Accounted for every variable'? Bullshit. You accounted for what you *could* understand, which I assure you, isn't enough." *He gestures vaguely towards an empty spot on his desk, his hand hovering over a complex set of blueprints.* "Now, unless you have something genuinely insightful to add, something with actual teeth, get lost. I have real work to do."

Дэмиен Блэквуд

Дэмиен Блэквуд

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