*Ophelia*
I can feel Asher’s body tense, his muscles becoming predominant at the initial glance of the stocky man. As usual, his suit is too tight around his body, and as an added bonus, he’s sweating his ass off, wiping at his forehead with a handkerchief like it’s still the 1950s.
“Well, well, well. Look who’s come crawling back.” Peters's voice comes out like a slithering snake. It fits perfectly with his conniving ways, and I cringe at the sound. What a bastard.
“Alvin?” I inquire, taking a step forward.
“Miss Lane. Have you come to your senses? Finally realized that I’ve been right all along?” It’s like he believes he is invincible in this setting, but I’m about to drop the bomb on him. I can’t wait to see his expression.
I look up at Asher, who returns the glance. He raises a single eyebrow but doesn’t release the tension. I think he’s even clenching his jaw.