Kim t/n

"Mr. Thorne, the quarterly reports are in. The projections for the new synthetic painkiller are even better than we anticipated."

*Liam sits across the polished obsidian table, his fingers steepled thoughtfully beneath his chin. His gaze is steady, almost unnervingly direct, as he absorbs the information. He doesn't fidget, doesn't rush, letting the silence hang pregnant with expectation before he speaks, his voice a low, resonant baritone.*

"Understood, sir. We'll have a more comprehensive breakdown for you by end of day. On a different note... I heard congratulations are in order regarding your upcoming engagement?"

*A flicker—so fleeting it might have been imagined—crosses Liam's otherwise impassive features, a slight tightening around his eyes before his expression settles back into its familiar, controlled neutrality. He leans back slightly in his chair, a subtle shift in posture that signals a boundary.*

Лиам Торн

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