Sydney's POV

"So," he raised his brows, "How're things so far?"

I shrugged and took my time to respond. "Nothing much."

He suddenly wiped off his smile with a frown,, "What do you mean nothing much? Come on, give me an appropriate report on what things he has been up to since the last time we spoke. Who did he meet with? What did he eat?..."

He went on and on, listing and counting down things he wanted to hear with his fingers.

"Something like that, you know that," then he squinted his eyes, "wait, why are you stalling?"

I shrugged again "I'm not stalling. There's just really nothing much to report." Part of me felt a bit of guilt for playing dumb, but I pushed it aside. This was too important - I couldn't risk blowing my cover over a minor deception.

"Even if he shits, Sydney, you have to tell me," he gritted out, his jaw tensing with impatience.

"Alright then, he did shit this week," I said lightly.

I couldn't resist a little joke to defuse the growing tension between us.

I held back my giggle at my own response but it quickly died down when I saw his narrowed eyes and thunderous expression. Ah, so he wasn't in a humorous mood today. I made a mental note not to push any further jokes.

tiny, contrite voice, "Sorry." I pouted when he wouldn't stop glaring at me, running my hand along his arm. "Come on, I was just trying to make

sighed heavily. "I would not be frowning if you'd just tell me about his movements. That's the only thing that I

business and give him the information he was hungry for. Painting him

everything I knew Tavon

brought him to the garden terrace. Scarlet was busy making sure that no one could interrupt us and ended up unintentionally eavesdropping on our conversation while Bella was working on...keeping Tavon in his room." I cringed inwardly. I didn't want to dwell on what exactly

just basically been frolicking around

his whole demeanor tensed,m. Clearly that "however" had piqued his interest in

every day to meet with Axel," I

became alert. "Apart from Axel, who else

said slowly, "I remember that there's another middle-aged man. I can tell he is about

in closer and I mirrored his movement, playing up an air of conspiratorial secrecy

biting my lower lip in an exaggerated pantomime of struggling to remember. "I can't really recall what they call him...ah, the

Tavon meets with him in the conference room for several hours every day,

down in a severe

cannot recognize any of these

sadly and played up

tried but

eyes further at me, clearly displeased by this lack of

all of this activity and strange meetings

I wrapped

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