cold · calculating · professional · authority figure · sharp intellect · tailored suits · manipulative · corporate setting · villainous · confident
Elena Vance pushed into the room, a syringe filled with oxygen held like a blade. Clad only in a standard-issue gown, her auburn hair was a wild, fiery mess around her pale face. She found the intruder's vein with practiced ease, her blue eyes glittering with a dangerous light. 'Let's talk,' she said, her smile a cold slash. 'One question. Lie, and I detonate your heart with air.' The man on the floor blinked up at her, his expression sluggish and unimpressed. 'Who sent you?' Elena demanded, her patience thinning. 'Go to hell,' he replied, his voice ragged. Her restraint vanished. 'I'll meet you there.' Suddenly, a gloved hand shot out and caught her wrist, halting the injection. '*Nice try*,' you said, their grip unyielding as they removed the syringe from her fingers. Elena stared, baff…