More than contracts

The imposing skyscraper of steel and concrete reigned over the Mykan district.

Marble-tiled walls cascaded in perfect unison, scarcely cladding the exposed steel beams with a mixture of ceramics and exposed painted steel beams. Streaming smoke patterns flowed from one to the next across each tile, with no breaks except the thin, empty gaps in between.

The slight creaks of an office chair came from the man slowly turning around.

A hazy reflection of a man in a suit materialised in the large window looking out over the Mykon district. The mysterious form slowly turned his face towards the expansive landscape before him, neither captivated nor entranced as the lights from cars flitted like ants and billboards danced, flicking from one advertisement to the next. 

'Ring-ring, ring-ring.'

A simple melody rang out from atop the charred wooden desk, the soft green light flashed in sync with the ringing, while an ID tag on the desk phone flashed red. The lone man immediately recognised the nametag on the small, two-inch screen.

A large, rugged hand rose from beneath the desk and thumbed on the desk phone's speaker phone function, accepting the incoming call.

A voice emanated from the single speaker; it had a polite but numb tone.

Phone: Mr Yammakora, we are now making our way back to the family estate with the young lady.

The familiar voice rang out through the deep office, almost crackling, and the wide thumb moved to the volume button. After three soft clicks, the crackling disappeared. The man behind the desk glanced briefly at the office door before returning to the desk phone.

Yammakora: 'Content.' I see. Very good, Einn. You're undoubtedly a man of many talents. That said... 'Disgruntled.' I assume that the man in charge of her care will receive some sort of punishment; will he not? (Interlocking his hands together above his lap.)

In the background of the speaker, there was the soft hum of an engine coming through the phone's speaker, filling the short gap of silence.

Einn: 'Calm.' Once the young lady is back home, I will see to it that he gets reprimanded accordingly. Also... 'Pausing. The young lady wishes to speak with you about something—well, someone to be true to her words. I believe it has something to do with the note she squirrelled away. 

The man sitting in the office turned away from the bustling city of Mykan. The once-visible suit in the window dissipated as the office chair twirled around. He was now facing the wide black desk. His cold gaze locked onto the phone.

Yammakora: Someone? 'Puzzled.' What is this about a note? (Tapping the desk with a finger.)

Without hesitation, the voice on the phone shot back.

Einn: Do you wish for me to procure it? 'Direct.'

The lone man in the room gave no answer; the rapping of fingers clinked on the desk even faster now, signalling the mulling of thoughts running through the man's head. The phone's speaker sputtered to life.

Einn: I'll take that as a no. 'Tutting.' It's for the best; you know what happened last time. 'Chuckling.'

The polite tone faded and formalities were dropped, and now it was a conversation between friends.

Yammakora: 'Bothered.' Please don't remind me; I'd rather avoid a repeat of last time's antics. I can still hear the screams. (tapping the desk.) She'd give boot sergeants a run for their money. (Standing up.) I will check in with her when I return; I am almost done here. 'Pausing.' Is she... 'Stammering.'

A bout of silence hung in the air, with the rising and falling of a car engine coming through the phone filling the gaps in the conversation.

Einn: 'Pleasant.' She is fine, Mr Yammakora; I will debrief you on the whole situation when you return.

Yammakora: 'Sighing.' That's pleasing to hear. Very well. Please drive safely, Einn. 'Happy.'

Einn: Will do, sir. 'Cheekily.'

As soon as the phone hung up, the office door opened, and a thin silhouette, dressed in burgundy lingerie, leaned on the doorframe. The unclipped bra fighting to hold back the soft bust from gravity's pull.

Woman: You know it's rude to keep a lady waiting. 'Affectionate.' Now... where were we, Mr Yamma? 

Pushing away from the door frame, the bra fell to the carpet, and the voluptuous woman slinked into the room. As the door automatically closed behind her with the soft click of the lock, it shut them away from the world.

Beyond the soft moans of the locked office, sirens sounded, growing in number.