The Return Of General Tyler

Regret

Matthew's scowl deepened, his eyes flashing with annoyance, as he growled, "Sit down!" But Rayne refused, her legs locked in defiance, her eyes flashing with a spark of rebellion.

Before she could even process what was happening, a hand clamped down on her shoulders from behind, spinning her around and forcing her into the chair in front of the desk. The grip was like a vice, fingers digging deep into her skin, making her wince in pain.

Matthew's smirk grew wider, his eyes glinting with malevolent pleasure, as he leaned forward, his elbows on the desk. "Such great manners you have there," he sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. His gaze seemed to bore into Rayne's very soul, as if searching for any sign of weakness.

Rayne's eyes locked onto a point somewhere beyond Matthew's shoulder, her mind racing with regret and anger. She couldn't believe she had agreed to work with him, had trusted him. Now, things had taken a dark and sinister turn, and she was trapped in this nightmare.

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