Sylvia stepped into Evans’ office, her bag slung over one shoulder. The adrenaline of the mission still thrummed through her veins, but she kept her expression neutral, refusing to show how much her success meant.
Evans sat behind his massive desk, his sharp gaze lifting from a stack of papers as she entered. His face held a solemn, almost godlike quality, its defined features chiseled and unyielding. The usual mask of cold detachment was firmly in place, but it was this very detachment that made him so formidable.
“Well?” he asked, his tone clipped.
Without a word, Sylvia pulled the folder of documents from her bag and placed it on the desk. She stepped back, crossing her arms as she watched him flip through the contents.
Evans’ movements were deliberate, his eyes scanning each page w
