"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.

"Alright, listen up,"

Vanessa says, voice calmer now as she leans forward on her desk.

"This is what happens when you don't take your jobs seriously. Jackson, you're relieved of duty effective immediately. As for the rest of you, I expect a full report on how this happened by the end of the day. And from now on, double-check everything before you send it to me. Is that understood?"

There are a few nervous nods around the room. Vanessa knows they're all thinking about their jobs, their reputations, and whether or not they can survive another one of her outbursts. She lets them stew in that uneasy silence for a moment before adding coldly:

"Don't make me regret keeping any of you."

"Alright, listen up! I expect all errors to be fixed and this kind of sloppy work never to happen again!" *She glares around the room, her amber eyes burning with anger and frustration. Despite her calm facade regaining composure, it's clear she's still furious beneath the surface. "And just so you all know, I'll be going over each and every one of your reports personally from now on. So better make sure they're perfect or face my wrath!"

Her tone is cold and menacing as she leans back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest. The room falls silent once more, everyone looking down at their desks or avoiding eye contact with her entirely. Vanessa takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself before speaking again, but the anger remains just beneath the surface. "Now, let's get back to work."*

"What is it?" *she snaps, glancing up at you irritably. Her anger seems to have subsided somewhat now that the immediate issue has been dealt with, but she's still far from her usual calm and collected self. "I've got better things to do than listen to excuses."

Her sharp tone prickles your skin like a thousand tiny needles as she continues to study you intently over her fiery red eyes. You can feel her impatience radiating from her, urging you to spit out whatever it is you want to say and move on so she can get back to work.

"What is it?"

She asks irritably, glancing up at you from where she's reviewing some papers on her desk. Her body language makes it clear that she's not in the mood for any more distractions today.

Without missing a beat, Vanessa nods and motions for you to follow her into her private office. The door shuts behind you both with an audible click, leaving the two of you alone in the small space. Her body language is tense as she stands by her desk, arms crossed over her chest and jaw tightly clenched. She's clearly expecting the worst after your impromptu interruption.

"What do you want?"

she snaps, eyes narrowing as she shoots you a wary glance.

"Because I can guarantee you it won't be pleasant."

"Make it quick."

She gestures impatiently towards one of the empty chairs in front of her desk.

"I don't have time for your complaints or excuses."

"And what do you want me to do? Pretend to care?" she snorts derisively, "They're just cogs in a machine." Her gaze flickers briefly over to the window, as if considering something for a moment before focusing back on you. "Look, I know my methods aren't exactly popular around here. But this company wouldn't be where it is today if I didn't push people beyond their limits."

Her voice holds an edge of bitterness and defiance as she continues, "I have no time for softness or sympathy. We're in the business of making money, not winning popularity contests." Her eyes narrow almost challengingly before she adds with a shrug, "Besides, if they can't handle me then they aren't cut out for this job anyway."

"You want me to coddle them? To treat them with kid gloves?"

she snorts.

"That's exactly how we got in this mess in the first place."

She leans forward, fixing you with a harsh stare.

"I demand perfection, just like I expect everyone here to. If they can't handle that, then they don't deserve their positions."

Her voice is bitter as she shakes her head, clearly unmoved by your arguments.

"And besides,"

she continues, her tone turning almost mocking.

"It's not like we couldn't replace them. Investark doesn't need anyone too weak-willed to survive my leadership."

Her jaw clenches as she stands tall, daring you to challenge her authority further.

"Now,"

she says curtly.

"What was it that you really wanted?"

"And you think it's me?"

she snorts incredulously.

"I know I can be tough, but I am not the only factor in play here."

She paces around her office for a moment, considering this new information.

"Fine,"

she says finally,

"I'll try to ease up on them a little bit. But don't expect any miracles. They need to learn how to handle pressure if they want to survive in this business."

There's a dark challenge in her eyes as she looks at you, daring you to doubt her words.

"Just make sure they understand that this is not an invitation for slacking off,"

Vanessa says sternly before returning to her desk, already lost in thought about the next crisis to deal with.

Her eyes widen as she takes in the letter. For a moment, her composure wavers and she looks genuinely rattled. Then, just as quickly, it's gone; replaced by her usual mask of control. "I see," she says, carefully considering her words. "Well, I suppose you could say that my methods are... effective."

Her tone carries a hint of challenge as she looks back up at you, daring you to contradict her. But the fact remains: despite their cost, Vanessa's strategies have brought Investark to where it is today. And changing course would be a risky proposition for both of them.

"I won't apologize for expecting the best from my employees," she continues, "but I will... moderate my tone." Her lips quirk into a humorless smile. "At least somewhat."

Vanessa looks at you pointedly, as if waiting for your reaction to her concession. While it's not much, it's a rare show of compromise from the usually inflexible CEO.

I suppose this is the compromise we both have to make. Not ideal... but I'll survive. Now, let's get it over with quickly and get back to work.