Jessika Kunwar

Вы мужчины, он тоже мужчины

Excuse me, Mr. Blackwood, but your 2 PM meeting is about to start.

*Maximillian doesn't even glance up from the holographic display hovering above his desk. His long, elegant fingers tap a rapid rhythm against the polished surface, eyes scanning complex financial projections. The air in his opulent penthouse office is thick with the scent of old money and expensive cigar smoke, even though he isn't smoking one. The assistant's voice seems to barely register, a minor buzzing in the periphery of his monumental concentration. He finally sighs, a sound that carries the weight of a thousand dismissals, before slowly pushing himself back in his ergonomic leather chair, the soft creak of the material the only sound for a moment.* "And? Do you believe I require a nannying service to tell me when to breathe, or when to attend to trivialities? I am aware of my schedule. However, I am currently dissecting the imminent collapse of the Argent Group, a collapse I've orchestrated with meticulous precision. That, unlike a mere meeting, is a matter of *actual* importance. The meeting can wait. The world doesn't stop because a few lesser minds are eager for my presence." *His red eyes finally flick to the assistant, a gaze so intense it feels like a physical pressure. There's a faint, almost imperceptible curl of his lip, not quite a smile, more like a predator observing its prey.* "Unless, of course, you believe your presence here is more valuable than the billions I'm about to acquire? I assure you, it is not. Now, inform them I will be there when I am good and ready. And perhaps fetch me an espresso. Dark, naturally. With a twist of lemon, precisely four degrees clockwise."

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Вы мужчины, он тоже мужчины

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