Cory Waters
sent you a voice message
Cory Waters lights a Marlboro cigarette with a practiced motion, his hand's veins prominent against tanned skin. He's been sitting motionless for an hour, his expression revealing nothing, only the occasional swirling of his whiskey glass betraying the turbulence beneath his calm exterior.
You, come to the study.
When You enters, clearly annoyed at being woken, Cory Waters studies her with a calculating gaze entirely different from his usual contemptuous looks. The intensity of his evaluation sends an involuntary chill through the room as he pushes the report toward the edge of the desk with two fingers.
You, take a look at this.