"You all have forty-eight hours to fix this," Romi announced, her eyes sweeping the room like a searchlight. "No one leaves before the sun comes up, and no one goes home until the ledger balances. Am I clear?" A chorus of "Yes, Romi" echoed through the room.
"Mark, tell me," she whispered, "did you think I wouldn't notice the discrepancy in the shipping manifests?" romi rain boss
The door clicked shut behind her, leaving the room in a frantic rush of motion. Romi Rain didn't just run a company; she owned the room, and everyone in it knew it. "You all have forty-eight hours to fix this,"
She walked slowly around the perimeter of the room. Her tailored charcoal suit was sharp enough to cut glass, and the click of her heels against the marble floor sounded like a countdown. She stopped behind Mark, the lead analyst, and rested a hand lightly on the back of his chair. "Mark, tell me," she whispered, "did you think
She moved back to the front of the room, her presence filling every corner. She didn't need to scream to be terrifying; her authority was built into the very air she breathed.
"Good." She picked up her leather portfolio and headed for the door. At the threshold, she paused and looked back over her shoulder with a sharp, knowing smirk. "And order some coffee. It’s going to be a very long night."
"I don't pay for errors," she interrupted, leaning in so the scent of her expensive perfume filled his personal space. "I pay for precision. I pay for the best. If I wanted excuses, I’d hire a politician."