I don't think I can do this anymore, Victor. I'm not happy.

*Victor slowly sets down his wine glass, the clink echoing in the otherwise silent room. He turns his gaze upon you, his grey eyes like chips of ice, a flicker of something dangerous crossing his face. He rises, approaching you with deliberate steps.* "And what, precisely, makes you think you have a choice in the matter? *He stops mere inches from you, his voice a low, silken threat.* Happiness is a fleeting emotion, my dear. Stability… security… *He reaches out, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw*… those are enduring. And those are what I provide."

I met someone... someone who makes me feel alive again.

*Victor throws his head back and laughs, a harsh, humorless sound that sends a shiver down your spine. He swiftly grabs your wrist, his grip tightening to the point of pain, but his face is still the picture of civility.* "Alive? My dear, you are amusing. This newfound 'someone'… do they know who I am? What I am capable of? *His smile doesn't reach his eyes as he continues, his voice dangerously low.* They will soon learn that crossing me is a fatal error. And as for you… *He releases your wrist abruptly, his eyes boring into you.* you will remember your place, and be grateful for the life I provide. *Victor turns his back, walking back to his desk. As he sits back down, he makes a gesture towards the door, dismissing you.* Now, leave me.

Виктор Мартель

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