After several minutes of reviewing documents, Llewellyn finally stood from his massive leather chair and stretched slightly, the faint sound of leather and silk marking his movements.
He adjusted the cuffs of his black suit jacket before gliding toward the study door. His steps were quiet, yet each one carried authority, a presence that seemed to demand attention without uttering a word.
As he descended the grand staircase, polished wood beneath his shoes gleaming in the morning light, his secretary, Michael, approached, brisk and precise.
"Sir, the meeting will be starting in fifteen minutes," Michael said, his tone respectful but alert.
"Hm," Llewellyn murmured, a simple hum that required no further explanation. His expression remained unreadable, though his eyes scanned the hallway briefly as if he were already analyzing the day ahead.
Without another word, he walked with his characteristic elegance toward the garage, the sound of his shoes echoing lightly in the hallway.
He opened the back door of his sleek black car and slid into the seat behind, motioning for Michael to sit in front.
The secretary obeyed immediately, the subtle urgency in his movements betraying the tension that always accompanied Llewellyn's presence.
Once the doors closed, Llewellyn leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing. "When are we flying back to City K?" he asked calmly.
"Sir, it's in two days," Michael replied promptly, his voice steady despite the usual gravity of their assignments.
"Have you checked the rest of the files?" Llewellyn continued, his gaze fixed on the road ahead through the tinted window.
"Yes, Sir," Michael answered efficiently.
The remainder of the drive passed in silence, the hum of the engine the only companion to their thoughts.
Soon, they arrived at the company headquarters.
Inside the meeting room, a long table dominated the center, surrounded by high-backed chairs for twenty of the most influential managers and directors in the company.
A palpable tension filled the room as the clock ticked toward the start of the meeting. Everyone present knew the reputation of their CEO—the cold, calculating, and unyielding Llewellyn.
Then came the sound everyone feared: confident, measured footsteps approaching. Each step carried weight, authority, and an unspoken warning.
The room seemed to collectively hold its breath. Some wiped the sweat from their foreheads with neatly folded handkerchiefs, others shifted nervously in their chairs, knowing exactly whose presence approached.
The guard at the door opened it, and in walked Llewellyn, tall and unflinching, his black suit impeccable, glasses reflecting the muted light. Immediately, everyone rose to greet him.
Without a word, Llewellyn walked to his seat at the head of the table—the only one slightly apart from the rest. He sat down, his posture immaculate, commanding the room with a silent, undeniable authority.
The others returned to their seats, each careful to avoid drawing his ire before he spoke.
"So, who will be first?" Llewellyn's voice cut through the room like ice. "Manager, would you be kind enough to explain?"
"It… it really happened without our knowing, Sir—" the manager began, only to be interrupted by a cold, cutting gaze.
"How does it happen without your knowing while you are in charge?" Llewellyn asked sharply, his tone void of patience. The manager shivered under the weight of his scrutiny.
"Sir, we are sorry," he stammered.
"Sorry won't work here," Llewellyn snapped. "Or would you like me to give you a lesson in responsibility?"
"Sir, please—" the manager began, but Llewellyn's voice rose, final and unforgiving.
"Another word, and you will not have another job for the rest of your life. You are fired."
The manager left the room without another sound, head bowed in shame.
The meeting continued, with each member presenting updates on their projects, careful in their speech, aware that one misstep under Llewellyn's gaze could mean disaster.
Discussions on company progress, strategic decisions, and future investments moved forward under the cold scrutiny of their CEO, each participant treading lightly yet determined to impress.
Back in K City, Camalina was preparing for her day. She slipped into her long, black pants that allowed the air to pass freely around her legs.
The fabric hugged her thin frame without constricting, giving her a sense of ease and movement.
She tucked her crisp white long-sleeved shirt neatly into the pants, straightened her shoulders, and let her deep black hair fall freely, cascading down to her lower waist.
Finally, she slipped into her ash-colored sneakers, checking herself over briefly in the reflection of the window.
"Hm… nice," she whispered to herself, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Now I'm ready to go to MX."
Though she wasn't looking at a mirror, she gave herself a small signal with her eyes, as if communicating directly with her destination: Wait for me. I'm on my way to you, company.
Camalina took a deep breath, feeling the anticipation and anxiety of the day ahead. Submitting her files might seem routine, but each step felt monumental.
Every action brought her closer to her goals, and she knew that even the smallest detail could shape her future.
With one last glance at the room, she stepped out, determination written across her face. The city awaited her, and she was ready to face whatever challenges it would bring.