I Want You
As the words fell, the vast office fell into a silence so profound that one could hear a pin drop. Lorraine Ford was surrounded by swirling smoke, and her provocatively upturned red lips could be vaguely seen, exuding a cold yet enchanting allure, like a thorned red rose.
After a while, Lorraine's soft voice echoed, "Miss Shannon, you've really surprised me. I'm starting to appreciate you."
At first, it sounded like praise, but upon closer inspection, it seemed more like a provocation. Cynthia placed her tea cup on the table and fearlessly met Lorraine's gaze. "I hope I won't disappoint you."
Lorraine smiled, extinguished her cigarette, threw it into the ashtray, picked up her bag, stood up, and looked down at Cynthia. This gaze contained too many emotions—disdain, probing, and a hint of scrutiny.
"It's getting late; I should leave, or the old lady will get impatient," Lorraine said as she walked toward the exit.