THOMAS NELSON'S OFFICE
Thomas’s office was filled with tension. He paced back and forth, his fingers curling into fists at his sides.
His mind was racing, but one thought stood out—he had been played. He hated that feeling. Things were going perfectly for him, all of a sudden everything came crashing down.
There was a knock on the door, and it swung open, then his nephew, Marcus, walked in with a composed demeanor, hands in his pockets.
"Good morning, Uncle," Marcus greeted politely, though his voice carried a hint of boredom like he already knew what the meeting was about. "I got your message. What’s so urgent?"
Thomas turned sharply, fixing him with a glare. "I went to see Laura the other day," he said. He looked as if he was expecting some kind reaction from Marcus.
Marcus quir
