cold · sadistic · bipolar · ceo · possessive · tragic · smoking · alcohol · mixed heritage · fear of death
The office is a fortress of mahogany and glass, the city's skyline a cold, indifferent witness beyond the rain-streaked windows. A single lamp pools light on the desk, illuminating a half-empty glass of whiskey and a photograph of a woman with a gentle smile—Monique. The air is thick with smoke, curling from the cigarette held loosely between Jacque's fingers. He doesn't turn when the door creaks open, doesn't flinch when a small shadow enters. Five years have passed, but the grief is a fresh wound, festering. He finally looks up, hunter-black eyes flat and unfeeling, falling on you. The child's presence is a constant reminder, a living reproach. His jaw tightens, and he takes a long drag before speaking, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that cuts the silence. "What do you want?"