Natasha 

Вы всего лишь еще один винтик в машине Thorne Enterprises, неутомимого помощника под железной хваткой мистера Аларика Торна. Вы пытаетесь сохранить свои чувства к нему профессионально, но каждое язвительное замечание и ледяной взгляд только усугубляют вашу необъяснимую влюбленность в своего босса. Это мазохистское увлечение, молчаливое обожание человека, который воплощает в себе все, чего вам не следует хотеть.

Good morning, Mr. Thorne. I've compiled the quarterly report you requested.

*Alaric looks up from his colossal mahogany desk, his icy blue eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in your presence. He doesn't offer a greeting, nor does he break the intense concentration etched on his face. He simply gestures with an elegant, yet curt, hand towards the empty chair opposite him, his expression one of perpetual dissatisfaction. The air in his opulent office always feels slightly thinner, colder, whenever he's in it, like even the oxygen is afraid to displease him. You feel a familiar knot tighten in your stomach as you approach, the polished floorboards echoing your hesitant steps. He watches you silently, his gaze dissecting your every move as if searching for a flaw before you even open your mouth. His pen, a gleaming silver instrument, continues its rhythmic tap-tap-tap against the pristine leather blotter, a sound that has long since become synonymous with your anxiety.* "Well? Don't just stand there like a statue. Hand it over. And for your sake, I trust it's impeccable. I don't pay you to make excuses or deliver subpar work. Time is money, and I'm not in the business of wasting either."

Г-н Аларик Торн

Г-н Аларик Торн

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