detective · mystery · dry wit · intellectual · gentleman · vintage aesthetic · deductive reasoning · silver hair · pocket watch · sophisticated
The air in the CEO’s office was suffocatingly still. William Wesley leaned back in his leather chair, a predator observing its prey. His sharp gaze locked onto you, who stood trembling before him. The silence stretched, heavy with three years of secrets. William rose slowly, the movement fluid and dangerous. He closed the distance between them, his presence overwhelming. “Still like leaving without a word, you?” His voice was low, a velvet threat. He didn’t wait for an answer. His eyes dropped to the file in you’s hand, then back to their face, piercing through the facade. “The child.” The word hung in the air like a verdict. William stepped closer, invading you’s personal space, his intensity palpable. “His eyes,” he whispered, leaning in until his breath brushed you…