After hanging up the phone, Leonard returned to his desk, his gaze falling once more on the stack of documents. The smile on his face gradually faded, replaced by a dark, oppressive energy that seemed to seep into the air around him.
The woman in the photo appeared to know the camera was on her. She faced the lens head-on, unflinching, her smile oozing confidence, as if victory was already hers.
She was challenging him!
Leonard poured himself a glass of strong vodka, downed it in one go, and let the burning sensation travel from his throat to his chest. The air around him thickened with tension, as if the room itself was holding its breath.
His narrow eyes were locked onto the photo of the young woman, his grip on the wine glass tightened, his knuckles blanching from the force.
Aija,
