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.

noting Tyrone’s inner turmoil, turned to him, and their

at the corners of Blayze’s lips, and their eyes held each

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

that he might be

he kept the glass of wine

walked in from the corridor, a waiter had approached him with a tray and offered a glass of red

something amiss with

tension between Tyrone

saying, “I’m sorry, I need to use

concerned, suggested, “Mr.