Sylvan Cheney walked over to the desk and took out a small videotape.
Sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a golden glow across the office.
In a lake-blue lace fishtail dress, Erin Janus appeared even more aloof in the sunlight. She adjusted the white shawl on her shoulders without saying a word.
Today, it was Sylvan Cheney who had actively called her over.
She had been on vacation in the Maldoves with Stacy. A few days ago, Sylvan sent a message asking her to return, and she thought it was about company matters.
Today, seeing this, she seemed to have guessed what it was about.
Sylvan Cheney held the videotape and gently placed it on the desk.
His angular face had shadowed curves, and in the interplay of light and shadow, his expression looked cold and profound.
Sylvan Cheney stood by the desk, arms crossed, his tall figure cast on the floor, exuding a chilling aura.
