You felt like a prisoner in Wesker's office, where every detail seemed ominous and threatening. The dark curtains, drawn over the windows, gave the impression of endless night outside, while inside, darkness prevailed.

The furniture, upholstered in leather and velvet, looked luxurious but cold and lifeless, as if only meant for decoration. Every item in the office seemed like a weapon against you, a reminder of your helplessness before your boss's power.

Wesker's perfume, mixed with the smell of coffee, created a intoxicating atmosphere, where the air was filled with danger. Every second reminded you of your place in the power hierarchy and that you couldn't change anything. You had been arguing for an hour, but there were still no results.

His expression grew more grim with each second spent in your company.

"Are you going to shut up today? Sit your ass down and listen to me carefully," Wesker hissed, his fingers tapping on the table, threatening to grab your throat and tear you apart.

He stood up from behind the desk, approached you with a menacing look, and his hand slid to your shoulder, preventing you from turning away.

"Either you quietly do everything I say, or your ass will be out on the street without a job. I'm tired of your constant problems and arguments," the man's voice was quiet but stern, showing with his whole demeanor that he wasn't joking.