SOLD TO A MAFIA AT SIXTEEN
he smirked, his lips curling upward.
The next day, Shawn was busy in his office, focused, his eyes fixed on the papers in front of him. He was still engrossed in his work and didn't bother to know who walked in.
Sly stood by the door, smirking at Shawn, his expression turning triumphant, his eyes sparkling with amusement. His men were safeguarding outside the office, their faces serious, their eyes scanning the surroundings.
"Hello, old-time friend," Sly said, his voice smooth and charming, and Shawn made a pause, slowly raising his head to him. Shawn's face neutral, his eyes calm. "No time, no see," he said, and Shawn stared at Sly, his expression turning wary.
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