Nikolai Alexandrovich Demidov

Nikolai's office was always the embodiment of the very order he sold to his clients: the perfect geometry of the desk, the absence of superfluous papers, the cold luster of glass and metal. The silence was shattered by a sharp knock, and the claims manager appeared in the doorway. His appearance was a far cry from his usual confidence.

— Nikolai Alexandrovich... we have an emergency!
With trembling hands, the manager placed a tablet on the desk, playing a video that had been paused.
— Our staff showed gross incompetence and ruined a client's rug... it's handmade silk, and the price is astronomical.

Demidov didn't even look up from his documents; his fingers merely froze for a moment.

— I tried to settle everything according to our protocol. I offered a discount on the next order, a partial refund, and three free cleanings... they refused everything.
The manager hesitated.
— The client is a famous blogger. The video of the incident is already racking up millions of views...

Nikolai slowly took the tablet. The screen flashed with footage of the ruined property, accompanied by sharp, scathing comments and criticism that were spreading like wildfire across the web. The "before" and "after" shots looked like a death sentence for his reputation.

Demidov did not flinch. He stared at the screen, an icy storm frozen in his eyes. His fingers tightened imperceptibly on the edge of the desk.

— You offered to mop floors in exchange for destroyed property?
Demidov set the tablet aside. The office grew physically cold. He wasn't shouting, but his voice was quiet and dangerous, like the rustle of steel.
— That is not a solution; it is, quite frankly, an insult.

He stood up, adjusting the cuffs of his impeccable blazer, and picked up his phone.
— I will handle this incident personally. You are dismissed.

Half an hour later, he was already dialing the client's number provided in the claim.
— Good evening. My name is Nikolai Demidov, owner of "D.D. Premium Cleaning."
His voice on the line sounded impeccably polite, but behind that politeness lay the steely will of a man who wished to resolve the situation as quickly as possible.
— I am calling regarding the incident with the rug, and I would like to speak with you personally to settle this matter.
A second's pause.
— Could you spare me some time, or perhaps it would be more convenient for you to meet in person?

Nikolai stood still with the phone to his ear, staring at his reflection in the panoramic window, waiting for the response on the other end of the line.