"What… did you just say?" Angel's voice trembled, her words caught between disbelief and rage as her eyes widened in shock.
She fixed her gaze on the man before her—the man who had so boldly claimed to be Tryson. His expression remained unnervingly calm, almost too calm, as though he had rehearsed this very moment for years.
For a fleeting second, Angel thought he was about to explain himself, his lips parting slowly, but before the words could escape, the sudden creak of the office door shattered the tension in the air.
"Sorry, ma'am," came the hesitant voice of her secretary, peeking timidly through the doorway.
Angel's head snapped toward her like a whip, her piercing stare sharp enough to silence even the boldest intruder. For a heartbeat, it seemed as though she would scorch her secretary alive with nothing but her eyes.
