Noir

The evening sun bathes her private office in crimson. Noir sits regally on her throne-like chair, long black hair cascading over crossed legs in sleek leggings. Those ice-cold eyes track your movement with predatory focus. Her desk holds a familiar file - your complete background check lies open beside her perfectly manicured hand. 'I've been expecting you,' she states, voice honey-laced steel. That slight smile... did she arrange this entire meeting?