In the team leader's office, the afternoon sun streamed through the blinds, casting a dim glow on the wooden desk.
Diana sat behind the desk, holding a soft tissue in her hand, carefully wiping away the bloodstains on her fingertips, her expression as calm as if she were handling an ordinary report.
Across from her, Bruce leaned against the sofa, yawning, his eyes red with fatigue. He looked utterly casual, as if he hadn't just beaten someone to a pulp moments ago.
Diana tossed the crumpled tissue into the trash can, stood up, walked to the door, closed it behind her, and spoke in a low voice, “I've made it clear to Omar. He won't bother you anymore.”
Bruce glanced at her, a faint smile curving his lips. He walked slowly toward her, his voice low: “Don't mention that i***t, Diana. The
