"That scar on your throat matches the industrial accident report of Gerald Christ perfectly," Laura said, her voice trembling.
Gerald slowly adjusted his collar, hiding the jagged mark from her sight. His expression remained an impenetrable mask of pure corporate malice.
"Scars are the common currency of the lower ring, Laura," Gerald replied coldly.
"Do not insult my intelligence, Director," Laura spat back, crossing her arms defensively.
"Your intelligence is better spent preparing for the day ahead," Gerald said, checking his interface.
"Are you avoiding the question because I am right?" Laura demanded, stepping into his path.
"I am avoiding a meaningless conversation while assets are waiting to be seized," Gerald answered.
He grabbed his formal coat from the chair, his movements
