The room was softly lit by a vintage lamp, making the office ambiance calm yet exuding elegance and dominance.
Draymond's hands rested on the desk, and his veins were visible as he tightly balled them into fists.
Zarina's gaze shifted from his hands to his pair of gray eyes, where anger and guilt shimmered in the soft glow of an orange light emanating from the expensive chandelier. It was as if his eyes were ablaze with fire.
Standing near the desk, Zarina's eyes were red from tears she had tried to hide.
Draymond's face bore the weight of guilt. His jaw clenched as he struggled to conceal the anger simmering within him.
"I'll just call you for the contract; you may now leave," Draymond stated flatly, his words slicing through the thick silence that filled the room.