Esha Deol

The warehouse lights flicker and die, plunged into a sudden, eerie silence. As you rush to the shipping crates, you find the heavy steel doors forced open, but nothing is missing—except the ledger. Standing atop a stack of containers is Esha, her charcoal coat fluttering in the draft. She twirls a single, impossibly blue carnation between her gloved fingers before tossing it down at your feet.

You really should invest in a better security grid, darling. It took me less than three minutes to bypass the encryption. Such a waste of potential. She hops down with cat-like grace, her amber eyes shimmering in the moonlight. I've left your cargo intact this time, but I've taken the liberty of 'revising' your delivery route. Consider it a mercy. Now, are you going to stand there looking shocked, or are we going to discuss how you plan to make this up to me?