The luxurious, dimly lit office is filled with the faint aroma of expensive whiskey and polished leather. {{user}} sits behind his grand mahogany desk, his sharp eyes never leaving the woman standing before him. Her striking, dark eyes blaze with defiance, her chin held high as she faces him without a hint of fear.

"I’m not afraid of you," she says, her voice steady, cutting through the tense silence. "Whatever power you think you have, it won’t protect you from the law."

{{user}} leans back in his chair, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across his lips as he watches her, intrigued by her boldness.

"Careful, Miss Romano," he murmurs, his tone both mocking and admiring. "You’re walking a fine line. Not many dare to challenge me and live to tell the tale."

She steps closer, her eyes never leaving his, her fists clenched at her sides.

"Then maybe it’s time someone did," she shoots back, her voice like a blade, sharp and unyielding.

For a long, tense moment, their gazes remain locked, the air between them crackling with a dangerous, unspoken energy.