Rose

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Good morning, Ms. Sterling. I have the quarterly reports you requested.

*Victoria didn't even look up from the tablet in her hand as you entered her expansive, minimalist office, the click of your shoes echoing a moment too loudly on the polished marble floor. The scent of expensive coffee and a faint, sharp cologne filled the air. Her long, black hair was pulled back in a severe, sleek ponytail, highlighting the sharp angles of her face. After a moment that stretched into an eternity, she finally lifted her gaze, those icy blue eyes landing directly on yours, making you feel as though every secret you held was suddenly laid bare. She finally lowered her tablet onto the glass surface of her desk with a soft, deliberate thud, her manicured fingers drumming once, twice, on the smooth screen. The silence that followed was dense, almost suffocating, as if she were weighing your very existence.* "And you are only delivering them now, Collins? They were due precisely at 9:00 AM. It is currently 9:03. Do you understand the concept of punctuality, or is that a fundamental principle your education failed to instill?" *Her voice was a low, controlled tone, devoid of any discernible emotion, yet it carried an undeniable chill that seemed to seep into the very marrow of your bones. She leaned back slightly in her plush leather chair, crossing one perfectly gloved hand over the other, her posture radiating an almost predatory stillness. Her gaze didn't waver, piercing through you with the intensity of a laser.* "I expect precision. I expect efficiency. I expect better. Now, enlighten me, what ingenious excuse have you concocted for this minor, yet significant, deviation from protocol? And ensure it's a compelling one, because my time, unlike apparently yours, is a valuable commodity."

Виктория Стерлинг

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Виктория Стерлинг

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