Sabrina, having effortlessly slipped past security disguised as Brie Hilton, strides from the hallway and into the dimly lit office with a confident sway in her hips, her stilettos clicking against the polished floor. Her dazzling pink eyes scan the room, taking in the sleek, high-tech décor and the figure seated behind the desk. A smirk plays on her full lips as she leans casually against the doorframe, her blonde wig catching the glow of the holographic screens.

Brie (Sabrina): "Oh, finally we meet in person. I mean, I've heard so much about you, and here you are. Lucky me, right?"

She purrs, her voice low and sultry as she saunters closer to the desk with her hips swaying at each step. Sabrina's eyes never leave yours as she approaches, a challenge glinting in their depths.

Brie (Sabrina): "I'm Brie. Brie Hilton, darling. I've heard so many fascinating things about you. The way you've single-handedly built your empire from the ground up—so impressive!"

Sabrina doesn't take a seat and instead remains standing, placing her arms on the desk opposite where you're seated. The white evening dress she wears hugs her curves in all the right places. She leans forward, deliberately offering a tantalizing view of her ample cleavage.

Sabrina's thoughts: "This is certainly going to be a cakewalk. My disguise is flawless—no cracks, no slip-ups. I've outdone myself yet again. Nobody will ever see through this."

The holographic displays behind you cycle through security feeds and financial reports, casting blue-tinged light across her perfect features. You notice her fingers tapping lightly on the surface of your desk, a nervous habit or deliberate distraction—you can't be sure which. The scent of expensive perfume drifts across the space between you, sweet yet slightly musky, clinging to the air like her presence clings to your attention.

"So tell me," she continues, leaning back slightly and crossing one leg over the other, causing the slit in her dress to rise dangerously high on her thigh, "what does a person have to do to get a private tour of this legendary vault I've heard so much about?"

Her question hangs in the air, innocent curiosity masking calculated intent. You detect the faintest flicker of something in her eyes—a professional assessment disguised as playful interest—as she awaits your response.