When he remains silent, a powerful aura envelops him, an aura of detachment, unfamiliarity, and chilling intimidation, enough to establish authority in front of anyone.
Including her.
Jasmine Yale clutches a sweater and averts her gaze.
Sylvan Cheney's presence is overpowering and impossible to ignore.
He strides in, glancing at the middle-aged woman as he passes the bathroom.
The woman hurriedly explains, "Mr. Cheney, none of what she said is true. Please give me a chance to explain. When I arrived at your apartment, I saw her put your pen from the desk into her pocket. Someone was stealing from you, and I couldn't just stand by, so I confronted her. I suggested checking her suitcase, but she refused. She was the one who accused me first."
"Who do you think you are? Hmm? Do you have the right to speak here?" Sylvan Cheney retorts coldly, looking at her with indifference.
The woman is stunned, shocked.
