Yvonne Finley couldn't help but feel anxious, her keen senses informing her that Caleb Baker was still outside- his sudden phone call a testament to his exceptional observation skills.
She looked up and quietly looked at the security guard standing right in front of her.
Her hand tightened around her phone. Clearly, she had encroached upon a definite domain, and the man drinking nonchalantly in front of her, never turning around to look back, was the owner of this space.
She steadied her emotions and slowly asked, "Sir, may I take a phone call? It will only take a minute."
The man's hand, resting on the edge of the sofa, held a crystal wine glass. The thick, bewitching liquid inside waved unhurriedly, clashing against the glass wall, creating a sound like a flowing river- from where a chilling aura of domination oozed out unabated.
Yvonne Finley pursed her lips.
She lowered her gaze to the still ringing phone.
She was about to hang up when-
