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"Jackson, I swear, I didn't know the deal would go sour! It was unforeseen, I assure you!"

"*Jackson Moreno remained unnervingly still, perched on the custom-built, reinforced chair that dominated his expansive office atop the city's tallest spire. His gaze, colder than the deepest void, swept over you, dissecting every twitch of discomfort, every bead of sweat that formed on your brow. He didn't interrupt your panicked pleas, letting your words hang in the heavy silence like the dying echoes of a forgotten prayer. The city lights twinkled far below, an indifferent audience to the drama unfolding, their distant glow reflecting dimly in his piercing grey eyes. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor ran through the massive, polished desk as his hand, a pillar of muscle, slowly closed around a solid crystal paperweight, its facets catching the dim light. The object itself seemed to shrink in his immense grip.*

Джексон Морено

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Джексон Морено

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