The green letter was reduced to a ball of green fire, and the gusts of wind around Josh subsided—as did the twisted expression on his face. He adopted his normal warm demeanor as he plucked one of the white sheets of paper out of mid-air. All of the other sheets of paper suddenly thudded to the ground as if they had increased exponentially in weight.
Schubert's dead, so Irina must know some things already. She must be suspecting me already, and that would land a vital blow on our relationship. I have to find Alex and that little brat before her, and kill them to kill off any hope in her heart. When that time times… Irina, I'm going to make you willingly marry me. Josh stood in front of his desk and began to write a letter.
"Dear Irina…"
After half an hour, Josh waved his hand through the air to dry the ink on the sheet of paper on the desk. He then carefully read through the letter to ensure that the wording and expression were perfect before tucking it into an envelope.
