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.

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

by the police at the party organized by the Schmidt Group.

mask her fear as she replied softly, "Yes, it's been all over the

Jameson continued, his smile devoid of warmth, "unearthed a damning amount of

almost as 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 slowly, a predatory glint

second skin, slick with a cold sweat. Her voice, when she spoke,

company boasts exceptional talent, and they hold significant influence. They know how to sway

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

finished his sentence, something flashed before Amber's

his hand and hurled the wine glass at her. She staggered backward, narrowly avoiding a direct hit to her head. However, the glass

quickly forced a mask of composure onto her face. "What's wrong, Mr. Schmidt? Who has upset you?" she asked,

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