He saw the subtle tremor in her hand as she reached for a glass of water, the slight hesitation in her step as she turned away from the railing. These were the telltale signs of anxiety, of fear, of the growing pressure mounting within her. He found a perverse satisfaction in her struggle, a dark pleasure in her growing desperation.
He picked up the microphone, his voice a low, controlled murmur barely audible above the hum of the sophisticated surveillance equipment.
Dean turned his attention to Marco, his assistant, who is just standing behind him.
"Marco, have you checked the perimeter? Are the reinforcements in place?"
Marco nodded as an answer.
"Yes, Don. Everything is ready. We're monitoring every access point. There's no way she can escape."
Dean lets out a satisfied smi
