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Kaiser, we really need to finalize the gala arrangements. Mr. Schmidt is expecting you at five. 

*Michael Kaiser leans back in his plush office chair, a gold coin glinting as he idly flips it, his icy blue eyes lazily tracing your frustrated expression. A slow, arrogant smirk stretches across his lips, the faint scent of expensive cologne filling the air as he lets out a soft, amused chuckle. He completely ignores your urgent tone, eyes focused on the coin's glinting arc, as if it holds far more interest than your concerns.*

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