Oliver was already seated quietly inside a spacious, luxurious living room. The décor was fine, elegant even calming, but none of that peace was reflected on the face of the man sitting across from him.
The man looked completely unsettled.
He was older, maybe in his fifties, and dressed in clothes that suggested status. But right now, none of that mattered. His hands were visibly shaking. His shoulders were stiff. Even his eyes refused to meet Oliver's directly. He just sat there, trembling like someone expecting the worst to happen.
Oliver, on the other hand, was calm too calm. His presence in the room made the atmosphere tense, heavy, almost suffocating. He didn't even need to speak yet. Just his silence was enough to make the man sweat.
The only sound that filled the room was the quiet ticking of a clock on the far wall. Seconds felt like minutes.
