Mia exhaled slowly, as if forcing herself to push through the weight of Vincent Ross’s presence, and when she finally spoke, her voice carried a sharp edge of determination that refused to break under pressure. “There’s no need for introductions anymore,” she said firmly, her gaze locked on him, “because we already know who you are. And we’re not here to play games.” Jessica stiffened slightly beside her, while Stacy shifted uneasily in her seat, but Mia didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t give Vincent the satisfaction of seeing hesitation in her eyes. “We know you took Elena,” she continued, her voice rising with conviction, “and we’re not leaving here until you release her right now.” For a moment, silence settled in the room so heavily it felt like the air itself had tightened. Vincent Ross finally stopped what he was doing. Slowly, deliberately, he set his pen down on the desk. Then he stood. The movement was unhurried, controlled, almost casual, yet it shifted the entire at
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