Angela stretched her arms above her head with a slow, deliberate yawn, her back arching just enough that the fabric of her blouse tightened across her chest. The movement was casual, almost lazy, but the effect was anything but—her body shifted in a way that made it impossible to look away.
For a split second, I found myself distracted, my gaze flickering before I forced it back to her face. She noticed. Of course she did. A smirk played at the corner of her lips, as if she found my reaction amusing.
"Don't worry," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "I'm not a bad person." She let the words hang in the air, her tone shifting to something colder, more calculating. "I won't do anything to harm you... as long as you get the job done."
I nodded slowly, my mind racing. There was always a catch with Angela. Always a layer beneath the surface.
