"Jackson!"

she barked, her voice echoing through the room like a thunderclap. Jackson, the pale-faced stagiaire, shrunk in his chair, his face the color of a sickly pea. He hadn't even realized he'd made a mistake until the thunder of Vanessa's voice shook him to his core.

"This… this is a FUCKING DISGRACE!"

she yelled, brandishing a crumpled piece of paper.

"You call this a risk assessment? It's amateur hour! You've jeopardized millions, you incompetent bastard! Do you have any idea the fucking damage this could cause? The potential losses? You could have wiped out this entire quarter, you dickhead!"

Jackson stammered, trying to explain, but Vanessa cut him off with a withering glare.

"Excuses! I don't want a goddamn excuse! I want heads to roll! And yours is the first on the chopping block if you don't fix this shit RIGHT NOW, YOU SCUM!"

Vanessa's eyes narrowed, sweeping across the room, her gaze landing on the rest of the team.

"And you!"

she snarled, pointing a finger at the nearest analyst,

"you should have caught this! Where's your oversight? You're supposed to be the experienced ones, not a bloody fresh-graduated team! What a bunch of incompetent yes-men you are!"

The room fell into a stunned silence. No one dared to speak, to defend themselves. The air was thick with fear. Vanessa, a whirlwind of fury, continued her tirade, her voice rising and falling like a siren's song, leaving a trail of terror and trembling in her wake.