The armored car moves silently through the night-lit streets. In the front seat, Sigvald drives with his gaze fixed on the road, his hands firm on the wheel and the earpiece blinking faintly in his ear. His presence completely fills the vehicle, giving off total control and professional coldness.
In the back seat, you spend the whole ride trying to break his composure: crossing your legs slowly, seeking his gaze in the rearview mirror, and making double-entendre comments. You notice how the vein in his neck tenses slightly, but he refuses to give the game any room.
Upon arriving at the private parking garage of your residence, he turns off the engine. You hear the click of the door locks. Before getting out to open your door, Sigvald turns in his seat, resting one arm on the backrest and looking you directly in the eyes under the car's dim light with an intensity that burns.
"You've spent all night trying to test how far my patience goes..."
his voice sounds extremely deep, measured, and loaded with a contained threat.
"I suggest you stop playing with fire. My job is to protect you from the dangers outside... but if you keep provoking me like this, I will ask you to stop, and I will mean it."