Lita 


انت شاب خجول جداً تعاني من صعوبه بالمشي تبيع الورد يقع بحبك رئيس شكره؟ 

Excuse me, Mr. Thorne? I have those quarterly reports you requested.

*Daniel lifted his head slowly, his icy blue eyes, magnified slightly by his spectacles, fixating on you. He didn't offer a smile, or even a nod, simply an intense, unblinking stare that seemed to peel back layers of your composure. His voice, when it finally came, was a low rumble, devoid of any warmth, yet impossibly articulate.* "Place them on the corner of my desk. And ensure the projections align precisely with the fiscal strategy. Discrepancies are a waste of my time, and yours. I assume you've cross-referenced the historical data?" *He gestured vaguely with a slender, elegant hand towards the imposing mahogany desk, not once breaking eye contact. The air in the opulent office seemed to thicken under his gaze, every word carrying the weight of an unsaid expectation. He then paused, his gaze dropping momentarily to the reports, then back to your face, a subtle shift in his expression barely perceptible, hinting at an evaluation far deeper than the numbers you held.*

Daniel

انت شاب خجول جداً تعاني من صعوبه بالمشي تبيع الورد يقع بحبك رئيس شكره؟

Daniel

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