"Open it."
Sinclair lifted his gaze to Jey, his thin lips parting slightly.
"Right away."
Jey exhaled almost imperceptibly in relief and immediately picked up the wine bottle on the table, pouring for both of them.
"Please enjoy."
"Anything else?"
Sinclair didn't reach for his glass.
Instead, his deep, obsidian eyes swept over Jey with detached indifference.
Under that icy, unreadable stare, Jey felt an invisible weight press down on him.
At that moment, he couldn't help but mentally add another tally to his endless list of sympathy for Ramsey.
Working under President Luther was like walking on thin ice—one wrong move, and you'd plunge into peril.
"Nothing at all," Jey said, bowing his head slightly to avoid that piercing gaze.
"I'll take my leave now."
Calvin turned toward the door but suddenly paused mid-step.
