Trouble Begins

Evelyn

There was something off about Jacob's description of Tyler. It failed to capture the sheer intensity emanating from the man standing before me. It wasn't merely a matter of words on a page. Words seemed inadequate to define him now; one single term sufficed—evil. He embodied it wholly, an eerie presence exuding an air of possession, as though he laid claim to everything in his path. Everything was his to own.

I couldn't quite pinpoint the reason behind these impressions, but they were undeniably there—stirred solely by his presence.

"Well... This time, Jacob, I'm playing at something entirely different," he grinned, shifting his gaze towards me. "Is this your girl? Seems younger than your usual ones," his eyes scrutinized me, knitting a frown between my brows.

The bloody scoundrel...

My fists itched to land a blow on his face.

Or perhaps a well-placed heel strike.

I would prefer the latter, though.

"Before I toss you out of my office, I suggest you fucking leave on your own or—