— You stay, he orders in a low voice, almost a whisper, yet authoritative enough to freeze me in place.— Me?My gaze wavers between him and the director, desperately searching for an escape. But the director, more concerned with slipping away, seems oblivious to my distress.— She's just an intern, I don't see why… he begins, uncertain.— I know. I'd like to see her notes, they interest me, Sacha declares with unyielding seriousness.— Yes, of course, she's at your disposal. Lilya, be professional, the director says before vanishing, closing the door behind him.Professional? I stifle a bitter laugh. I'm not sure what angers me more: being treated like an object or the fact that no one seems to care.— Let go of me! I snap, tugging my wrist free.He obeys, releasing me without a word. Then he sits back down, legs crossed, fixing me with a disturbingly calm stare.— Sit.I remain standing, arms crossed, my eyes locked onto his.— What do you want from me? I demand sharply.
