"Long time no see, Griswold," Osborne sneered, a twisted smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
Silas's eyes narrowed, his gaze cold and unflinching. Osborne had been a source of torment throughout his past, forcing him into dangerous errands for a pittance, finding perverse delight in Silas's discomfort and struggle. Osborne was the one who had made him deliver risky batches of Jelly Weed—a task that had left Silas resentful, wary, and forever suspicious of Osborne's intentions. And here he was again, standing in Silas's path, smirking with that same arrogance that sent a chill of irritation through Silas's veins.
"What do you want, man?" Silas asked, his tone icy, his expression completely indifferent.
"What's with the attitude and questions? You work for me, man, and I haven't seen you at our usual spot for weeks." Osborne replied, his smirk deepening as he stepped closer to Silas, clearly enjoying the power he thought he still held.
