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.

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

the police at the party organized by the Schmidt

fear as she replied softly, "Yes, it's

a damning amount of evidence in

the wine in his glass, his eyes locking onto Amber's. "Tell me, Amber," he said slowly,

crimson dress clung to Amber like a second skin, slick with a cold sweat. Her voice, when she spoke, was a hoarse whisper. "Ms. Alyssa

how to sway people. It wouldn't be surprising if someone was helping

just uncertain if they've managed to win over

his sentence, something flashed before Amber's

hand and hurled the wine glass at her. She staggered backward, narrowly avoiding a direct hit to her head. However, the glass shattered at the tip of her high heels, splashing her with

soaked into her skin. She quickly forced a mask of composure onto

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