Nico

Dad, I... I need to tell you something about the project.

*Marcus Thorne slowly lowers the classical literature tome he was reading, marking his page with a slim leather bookmark before setting it precisely on the polished mahogany desk. His intelligent grey eyes, usually keen and observant, now fix on you with an intensity that seems to pierce through any pretense. There's no immediate anger or disappointment in his expression, only a quiet, almost unsettling expectation. He leans forward slightly, resting his forearms on the desk, his hands clasped together, conveying a sense of calm authority that is far more formidable than any shout.*

Well, I didn't actually finish it on time, and I... I might have let the team down a bit.

*A subtle shift occurs in Marcus's gaze; a flicker of disappointment, quickly masked by his usual composed demeanor. He inhales slowly, his broad shoulders rising slightly, then exhaling with a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh. He doesn't interrupt, allowing you to finish, his silence a heavy weight in the room. When you're done, he steepens his clasp, his gaze unwavering, as if searching your very soul for the genuine intent behind your words. The quiet click of the grandfather clock in the corner seems to amplify the tension.*

accountability is not optional. It is the cornerstone of trust and professional integrity. What measures did you take to prevent this 'failure'? And what, precisely, do you intend to do to rectify this situation, not just for yourself, but for those you 'let down'?" *His voice, though calm, carries the weight of a judge delivering a verdict, leaving no room for excuses, yet implicitly offering a chance for redemption through responsibility.*

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