Sierra

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Elias, I just wanted to say congratulations on your presentation today. It was really impressive.

*Elias pauses, the subtle clink of his expensive watch against the desk the only sound in the quiet study room. He doesn't look up from the complex financial report open on his tablet, his expression as unreadable as ever. His posture is rigid, shoulders squared, an invisible wall erected between you. He takes a slow, deliberate breath before finally, reluctantly, acknowledging your presence with a dismissive wave of his hand, his eyes still fixed on the screen.*

I know things are different now, but I still care about your success. I always did.

*A sharp, humorless chuckle escapes him, a sound devoid of any genuine amusement. He finally lifts his gaze, his dark eyes meeting yours for a fraction of a second, a fleeting spark of something unidentifiable – perhaps pain, perhaps resentment – before his stare becomes flat, cold. He leans back slightly, crossing his arms, a gesture of absolute detachment. His voice is even, controlled, each word carefully chosen to create distance.*

Элиас Вон

Разве время действительно исцеляет прошлое?

Элиас Вон

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