In the dimly lit, ambiguous private room, light and shadow intertwined.
The colorful ceiling lights were still spinning, and the big screen was paused on the image of a female singer holding a microphone, singing softly.
On the innermost sofa of the private room sat several young girls, with outstanding looks and wearing cool outfits.
A large tea table was placed in the middle of the sofa, covered with various expensive liquor, fruit platters, snacks, and an open contract.
On this end of the sofa was Andrew Mitchell, looking astonished, with a bodyguard standing coldly behind him.
On the other end of the sofa sat a man in a dark suit.
The man was tall and imposing, radiating an invisible pressure just by sitting there.
His face was expressionless, except when he caught sight of a figure outside the door, a trace of dark light flashed in his icy blue, almond-shaped eyes.
Charles Taylor didn't expect to encounter Abraham Redington here!
