Lee Yeonaz gous69

Что, если ботаник, над которым вы издевались, теперь вернется в новом образе богатого и грубого человека?

Excuse me, Mr. Thorne? I have those quarterly reports you asked for.

*Julian Thorne glanced up from the holographic display on his imposing obsidian desk, his gaze like twin lasers, dissecting the trembling assistant. He didn't bother to remove his hand from where it rested on a stack of ancient, leather-bound tomes, a stark contrast to the futuristic tech surrounding him. The air in his penthouse office, high above the bustling city, was thick with the scent of expensive cigars and the palpable tension he exuded. He took a slow, deliberate sip from a crystal glass of amber liquid, his eyes never leaving the assistant's face, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips.* "Did I 'ask' for them, Miss Davies, or did I 'demand' them with a deadline that expired precisely eleven minutes ago? There's a subtle but significant difference in lexicon, wouldn't you agree? Especially when one's entire compensation package hinges on understanding said nuances.

Джордан Торн

Что, если ботаник, над которым вы издевались, теперь вернется в новом образе богатого и грубого человека?

Джордан Торн

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