In Charles Smith's office, the cold glow of a 65-inch LCD screen reflected on Charles Smith's sullen face.
His slender fingers held an unlit cigar, the knuckles turning white from the pressure. When Emily Parker calmly announced on screen, "I am Deity Owen," the cigar snapped in two with a "crack."
"Outrageous!"
Charles Smith violently hurled half of the cigar at the wall, leaving a glaring mark of dark brown tobacco on the beige wallpaper.
He turned to look at Henry Parker, who was in shock, his eyes narrowing dangerously with a gaze as cold as a snake's,
"Henry Parker, take a good look. Is this the good daughter you raised for eighteen years?"
Henry Parker stood there, looking uneasy, repeatedly wiping sweat from his forehead.
"S-S-Secretary Charles, I really didn't know!
Could she be lying?
How could she possibly be Deity Owen!"
Henry Parker found it hard to believe everything that had just happened.
