One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds…
The office was silent as a tomb.
The laughter that James had been swallowing earlier evaporated. The smile on his lips froze halfway, stiff like something carved in stone. The air in the room seemed to thicken until breathing itself became a burden. Even the faint hum of the city lights outside the windows disappeared beneath the weight of Logan Wesley’s silence.
Logan’s face was as cold as an abyss.
Not emotionless.
Not blank.
Cold—with a depth that could drown a man if he stared too long.
An invisible aura of violence filled the room, spreading like frost, making the temperature seem to drop. It was not loud. It was quiet. It crawled slowly across the floor, up the walls, into the lungs of the two men standing before him.
James’s face tur
