With practiced elegance, Tryson adjusted the cuffs of his tailored suit, each movement precise, deliberate.
Confidence radiated from him as he strode through the opulent hotel corridors, his polished shoes striking the marble floor with a rhythmic certainty.
As he neared the grand lobby, his sharp gaze flickered toward the elevator doors just as they slid open.
Angel and Samson stepped out.
Tryson halted, his instincts taking over.
In one fluid motion, he veered subtly to the side, ensuring they wouldn't catch sight of him.
Yet, despite his effort to remain unseen, his piercing eyes remained locked on them, tracking their every move like a predator observing its prey.
They moved toward the exit, Angel chatting lightly as Samson walked beside her, his posture controlled, his demeanor unreadable.
Tryson's fingers slipped into his pocket, retrieving his phone with practiced ease.
