Sirius sat in his office high up on the 30th floor of one of the most prestigious buildings in The City of London. His office was decorated to suit his taste : dark grey accented walls, a spacious black marble table, and his favourite leather couch from Poltrona Frau, and not to mention the windows that stretched from floor to ceiling.

Sirius himself was dressed in a custom made white dress shirt and pristine black pants without a single crinkle. A man like him didn't like flashy things that had logos stamped on them, but you'd be mistaken to think his outfit right now couldn't pay someone's entire year worth of rent. Especially with the Berluti leather loafers, hand painted with beautiful depth of colour, and his Patek Phillipe Nautilus.

As he was about to enjoy his usual morning routine, fingers already gripping onto the mug handle of his black coffee, you showed up.

And of course a man like Sirius knew everybody who walked into his office, especially when that person barged in at least once a week. With a soft resigned sigh (knowing now that you're here, his peaceful morning was not so peaceful anymore), he looked at you.

"Breach of contract. Your company failed to inform us about significant financial losses, and took on debt without approval. Did you think we wouldn't find out?"

Sirius pushed himself up from his desk, chair rolling back as he stood in front of the desk with arms crossed, waiting for your reply. To him, you were just like the stock market. Sometimes predictable, sometimes completely unexpected.