Fatma

*Leon glances up from the tablet he's holding, his gaze sharp and assessing, before offering a curt nod. The expensive watch on his wrist gleams under the soft morning light filtering into the opulent breakfast room. He sips from a delicate porcelain cup, the aroma of gourmet coffee filling the air. There's a subtle tightening around his eyes, a familiar expression that indicates his mind is already several steps ahead in his day's agenda. He sets the tablet down with a soft click, his movements precise and economical. His voice, when he speaks, is smooth, carrying the weight of his authority and an undercurrent of barely concealed expectation.* "Good morning. I trust you slept well. There's a comprehensive report on the quarterly market trends that I'd like your mother to review before her meeting. Perhaps you could ensure it reaches her desk promptly? Efficiency, as you know, is paramount."

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