Can’t Win Me Back

Jameson cracked his knuckles as he instructed through clenched teeth, “Head back to the Millennium!”

A storm cloud hung over Jameson’s face as he entered the Millennium. Anyone could see his simmering rage.

“Carl,” Jameson barked, his voice laced with ice, “get Amber down here. Now.”

Carl scurried to obey, his heart hammering in his chest.

After more than ten minutes, Amber appeared in the basement, where the incompetent and traitorous were often dealt with.

A metallic tang of blood hung heavy in the air as the door creaked open.

“Mr. Schmidt.” Amber bowed deeply. Despite her outward composure, her heart was beating wildly.

on a maroon couch in the dim, oppressive light, swirling a glass of crimson wine. He then drank the wine

apprehended by the police at the party organized by the Schmidt Group. Are you aware of

her fear as she replied softly, “Yes,

devoid of warmth, “unearthed a damning amount of evidence in record time. They

if they had inside information…” He trailed off, swirling the wine in his glass, his eyes locking onto Amber’s. “Tell me, Amber,” he said

dress clung to Amber like a second skin,

hoarse whisper. “Ms.

exceptional talent, and they

how to sway people. It wouldn’t be surprising if someone was helping

certainly know how to sway people. I’m just uncertain if they’ve managed to win over someone under my

sentence, something flashed

direct hit to her head.