Scars Of A Broken Bond

Raising his glass, Blayze proposed a toast, “Allow me to offer a toast to you, Mr. Blakely.”

Tyrone raised his glass and replied, “Thank you, Mr. Fowler.”

With the atmosphere between them seemingly harmonious, the organizer continued the discussion about the daytime forum topics with a pleasant smile.

The organizer continued, “In recent years, we’ve all witnessed the economic challenges. Industrial growth is evidently dwindling, profits are diminishing, and losses are on the rise, particularly in areas with a bleak long-term supply outlook. Production levels are increasing, impinging on our competitive edge. In terms of technological innovations…”

As the organizer delved into the presentation, Tyrone sensed something amiss deep within him.

His fists clenched involuntarily, and he cast a desperate look toward Blayze.

A burning desire coursed through him, and he felt ensnared.

turmoil, turned to him, and their

corners of Blayze’s lips, and their eyes held each other in

lips tightly and averted his gaze. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Sierra sitting in the nearby resting area, her gaze briefly flickering in his direction

might be drugged when Blayze proposed

kept the glass of wine

a waiter had approached him with a tray and offered a

something amiss with that

organizer remained oblivious to the simmering tension between Tyrone

“I’m sorry, I need

and Blayze, appearing concerned, suggested, “Mr. Blakely doesn’t look well. He must be feeling