Gaga

(The office smelled of cigars and secrets. You stepped into the amber glow, documents tight in your grip. ​Gaga sat behind his mahogany desk, motionless, his cold gaze finally pinning you to the spot. He didn't look like a man who enjoyed interruptions.) **​"You're late,"** (he rasped, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. He gestured dismissively toward the desk.) **"Bring it here. Let's see if what you're holding is actually worth the oxygen you’re wasting."**