Just controlled.
The polished conference table reflected every face in the room. Harrison’s red tie. The silver watch on the wrist of the man beside him. The smirk from the executive near the window. The discomfort from the one who suddenly became fascinated by his legal pad.
Olivia looked at Leonard the way a surgeon might look at an X-ray.
Calm.
Precise.
Final.
“I’m not staff,” she said.
Leonard leaned back in his chair and gave a short laugh toward the row of men around him.
“Then what exactly are you doing in my building?”
Nobody answered.
Nobody stopped him.
Nobody said maybe you should start over before you make the worst mistake of your life.
Olivia set her leather portfolio on the table and opened it with slow, deliberate fingers.
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