In a room elsewhere, four gentlemen sat yet again with gloomy faces. It was a bare kind of room with the necessities of a home office. However, the furniture in the place screamed millions! He was one who only cared for the appearances.
A few papers and files lay discarded in on the table in there, which was the most indicative that it was an office. Alex had better things on his mind than to bring work home with him. He hardly did any office work there and used that as his primary meeting-holding venue for all his underhanded deals. Alex Trimshaw sat at the head of the small group, grim. The place was very tense, but none could vent on anyone, for the object of their anger was not there.
