The Sin of His Obsession
The door closed with a soft click behind Elias, sealing them in the warm, quiet cabin. The man was an enigma, his posture ramrod straight, his face a perfect, unreadable mask. He didn't sit down. He simply stood by the coffee table, his eyes scanning the room as if cataloging every detail, every piece of furniture, every corner of the room. The scent of rain and pine from outside was now mixed with a hint of something sterile, something cold—the scent of a man who belonged in a world of steel and concrete, not a mountain hideaway.