Jefferson's POV
My fingers drummed against the mahogany desk in measured beats, each tap marking another second of my dwindling patience. Eight minutes had crawled by, punctuated every few seconds by the same pathetic sniffling sound that was slowly driving me to the edge of my composure.
I had been practicing restraint, repeating the same internal reminder over and over: Stay calm, she matters to Elisabeth. But my tolerance was reaching its breaking point.
"Enough with the tears, Nadia." The words came out sharper than I intended, my irritation bleeding through despite my efforts.
She lifted her blotchy, tear-stained face toward me, then immediately dropped her gaze back to her shaking hands. I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to dial back the edge in my voice.
"Listen, I'm not angry with you, and your job isn't in jeopardy. But I need your cooperation here. Your boyfriend exploited your trust to gather intelligence about me, and whoever paid him is refusing to cooperate."
