21

The man leaned back in his chair lazily, his legs stretched out on the. desk, crossed, a cigarette in between his left forefinger and middle finger, in a casual light denim shirt, its sleeves halfway up.

He looked slightly younger than Xenon and resembled him a bit, specializing his brows and eyes. Yet Xenon carried an air of authority. and appeared cold and distant, while this man was more of the playful sort. There was a certain feminine look about him that one might naively think him an easy-going and amiable person.

When he met Miya's gaze, Miya saw the sharpness in his eyes and realized that she should be cautious.

"Sit." The man spoke, his eyes fixed upon Miya. Miya sat down. "You are..." she muttered.

"Who do you think l am?" the man asked.

"Jameson Uba?"

"Right." Jameson retreated his legs and leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk.

"May I ask why you want to meet me?"

"I want you to work for me,"

Jameson said clearly. "To work for you? But I'm just a secretary with ze