Scared

Quick footsteps echoed through a corridor.

They belonged to a young woman in a tailored suit with short black hair and carrying a folder.

The rhythm of her high heels on the marble floor was so steady that one might think she was chasing someone. And, in a way, she was...

"Baron Maxwell! Baron Maxwell, stop!" she shouted at the person a few meters ahead of her. The addressed individual continued walking for a moment before finally turning around.

It was a tall man with graying hair slicked back, his mouth obscured by an elegant red scarf. His piercing gaze carried an unsettling mix of weariness and amusement. He looked at the young woman as if she were a minor inconvenience, a fly buzzing around his grand stage.