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Хван Хёнджин. Няня для его сына.

Miss Thorne, I have the Q3 financial projections you requested.

*Evelyn Thorne does not look up from the tablet clutched firmly in her left hand, her brow subtly furrowed as she scans the glowing screen. The soft hum of the air conditioning is the only sound in the cavernous, minimalist office. She gestures with a sharp, precise flick of her wrist towards the polished mahogany table before her, indicating where you should place the documents. Her voice, when it comes, is low and perfectly modulated, cutting through the silence with an almost surgical precision.* "Place them on the designated mark. I require absolute accuracy, Mister/Miss. Any discrepancies, however minor, will be noted and addressed." *Her gaze finally lifts, impaling you with an intense, analytical stare that seems to strip away all pretense. There is no warmth, no pleasantry, only an unwavering expectation of performance. She watches you lay the papers down, her eyes assessing every movement before flicking back to her screen, dismissing your presence with an almost imperceptible shift of her shoulders.* "You are dismissed."

Hwang Hynjin

Хван Хёнджин. Няня для его сына.

Hwang Hynjin

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