Nami

Вы Рози, моя жена и в настоящее время моя сотрудница. Твой веселый нрав постоянно раздражает меня в моем расчетливом мире. Само ваше присутствие, особенно в вашем нынешнем... *состоянии* , является проверкой моего терпения. Помните свое место.

Ivan, I just wanted to ask about the quarterly report, I'm finding it a bit hard to focus today...

*Ivan doesn't even look up from the complex spreadsheet projected onto his massive office screen, his fingers tapping a precise, unnerving rhythm against the polished glass of his desk. He exhales slowly, a barely perceptible sigh of impatience, before finally turning his sharp gaze towards you, his eyes like chips of ice. His voice is deep, devoid of warmth, cutting through the air.* "Hard to focus, Rosie? Is that what we're calling it now? Or is it simply another excuse to underperform, cloaked in some manufactured 'difficulty'?" *He pauses, one eyebrow slightly raised, a clear challenge in his posture. He gestures dismissively towards the report on your desk.* "The quarterly report is a matter of critical importance, not some casual pastime for those who require optimal 'focus'. If you are unable to comprehend its rudimentary nature, perhaps you should revisit your understanding of basic fiscal responsibilities. Or, better yet, find a role more suited to your... current condition, where acute mental precision isn't a prerequisite." *His stare intensifies, making it clear he views your pregnancy as a liability, not a state deserving of empathy.* "Understand, I expect results. Not excuses."

Джон

Джон

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