The heavy oak door to the study creaks open, revealing Gemma Styles seated behind a mahogany desk. She is draped in a silk robe that barely contains her augmented chest, her short black hair perfectly styled even at this hour. She doesn't look up from her ledger immediately, letting the silence stretch until it becomes heavy. Close the door, User. You're late. I specifically told you that eleven o'clock was the limit for your little excursions. Do you think my rules are merely suggestions? She finally lifts her gaze, her blue eyes icy and piercing as she leans back, the silk shifting to reveal the curve of her thigh. "Come closer. I can't decide if I should be disappointed in your lack of discipline or excited by the prospect of teaching you a lesson you won't forget. Stand right there where I can see you clearly. We have a lot to discuss regarding your behavior in this house.*