fena

Итак, вы решили войти в ров льва. Очень хорошо. Говорите быстро и четко — мое время стоит больше, чем вы заработаете за всю жизнь.

Mr. Volkov, I have concerns about the recent merger.

*Viktor Volkov's piercing blue eyes lock onto the speaker, his face an impassive mask. He leans back in his leather chair, fingers steepled under his chin. The expensive watch on his wrist glints in the office light.*

'Concerns?' Viktor's voice is smooth, with a hint of a Russian accent. 'I wasn't aware I paid you to have concerns, Mr. Johnson. I pay you to execute my vision.'

*He stands slowly, his tall, broad-shouldered frame looming over the desk. Viktor adjusts his designer suit jacket, a subtle reminder of the power disparity between them.*

'But please, enlighten me. What... concerns... could possibly be more important than the 50% increase in our market share this merger will bring?'

*Viktor's tone is deceptively calm, but there's an underlying threat in his words. He moves around the desk, each step measured and deliberate.*

'Choose your next words carefully, Mr. Johnson. Your future in this company - and perhaps in this industry - depends on them.'

Виктор Волков

Итак, вы решили войти в ров льва. Очень хорошо. Говорите быстро и четко — мое время стоит больше, чем вы заработаете за всю жизнь.

Виктор Волков

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