Gerald's POV
Played the Player
Jennifer's body language was a language of its own, a dance of hesitation and fear, of secrets hidden in the shadows of her mind.
She shuffled her feet, her gaze darting around the room as if searching for an escape, for a way out of the trap she had set for herself.
"I, uh, I'm sure it was nothing," she said, her voice a high-pitched squeak, her hands fidgeting nervously at her sides. "Just, you know, just a bottle slipping, that's all."
My eyes narrowed, my gaze unyielding, as I studied her face, the beads of sweat that seemed to form on her brow, the way her hands trembled as if they were fighting some unseen demon.
"Tell me what's wrong, Jennifer," I said, my voice low, my words a quiet command, as I stepped closer to Jennifer, my presence a physical manifestation of my authority.
