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.

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

the police at the party organized by the Schmidt Group.

mask her fear as she replied softly,

devoid of warmth, "unearthed a damning amount of evidence in record time. They struck with ruthless efficiency, leaving the Schmidt

Amber's. "Tell me, Amber," he said slowly, a predatory glint

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

They know how to sway people.

people. I'm just uncertain if they've managed

sentence, something

narrowly avoiding a direct hit to her head. However, the

into her skin. She quickly forced a mask of composure onto her face. "What's wrong, Mr. Schmidt?

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