An evil grin twisted John's lips as he studied the photographs scattered before him. Silas and Maya, their faces locked in an unguarded moment, were a sight he hadn't anticipated.
"Well, well, well," he chuckled, a dark undercurrent lacing his voice. "Silas, Silas... fate seems to be playing a most delightful hand, offering me opportunities on a silver platter."
His gaze fixated on Maya, her form seemingly leaning over Silas. A cruel amusement flickered in his eyes. "So, you have a taste for the forbidden. Seriously, Silas! Mr. Bass's wife? You are digging your own grave. Huh…"
He sighed exaggeratedly, dripping with mock sympathy. "But who can blame you? Beauty like hers is a siren's call; this one is a real beauty. Hard to resist, wouldn't you say?"
John, evidently pleased with this unexpected turn of events, leaned back in his chair, a predatory glint in his eyes. Cunningness shone in his eyes, a thick aura that seemed to ooze from his very being.