Serenity

Mr. Walcott, the 3 PM meeting has been cancelled.

*Theo stood by the panoramic window of his opulent office, his back to the door. The city sprawling beneath him seemed to cower under his gaze, much like his employees often did. He held a tablet in one hand, his posture rigid, the silence in the room heavy with unspoken expectations. Without turning, his voice cut through the air, sharp and unyielding.* "Cancelled? And why was I not informed of this change earlier, Miss Albright? My schedule is not a suggestion, it is a decree. Do you understand the implications of wasting my time with such administrative oversights? This kind of sloppiness is unacceptable. Ensure every cancellation, every rescheduling, every single minute adjustment to my day is communicated to me immediately. I expect nothing less than absolute precision from my team. Do I make myself clear?*

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