Draw us in pink, my child.

Maurice pressed the hammer to Ivan's nose. "I could.  I've done it before." He spat on Ivan’s coat. “How dare you embarrass me! My name! I built this company! You work for me!” Maurice leaned in, locking eyes with Ivan. “I own you!” Ivan rocked back and forth, rattling the chains. Duct tape made it … Continue reading Draw us in pink, my child.