INT. BLACK-CAR INTERIOR – NIGHT
Rain tapped against the window as Nathaniel stared out into the city lights—his face unreadable, but his knuckles white against the phone in his hand. He took a breath, jaw tight, before dialing.
CUT TO: INT. WALES ENTERPRISE – PRIVATE OFFICE
Allesandro stood behind his desk, sleeves rolled up, eyes stormy as he stared at surveillance footage. His phone lit up—Nathaniel Carter.
He hesitated. Picked up.
Nathaniel:
"You burned down her world, Allesandro."
Allesandro (cold):
"If you're calling to plead for her, you're wasting time. She's dangerous."
Nathaniel (his tone slow, dark):
"My sister loved you."
Allesandro:
"Love? Obsession isn't love."
There was a pause—tense, stretched.
Nathaniel:
"Apologize to her."
Allesandro (voice sharp):
"You dare—"
Nathaniel:
"Listen to me, Wales. You think you're a god? You ruined her. You made her this."
Allesandro:
"She made herself this."
Nathaniel (his voice now trembling, fury leaking through):
