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CHAPTER 32

It was late at night and James' office was shrouded in darkness, lit only by the faint glow of the lamp on his desk. The air was infused with the distinctive aroma of the cigars that James loved and his wife hated. In recent weeks he had intensified his addiction, just to get her away from his office. He wanted and needed to be alone. James was smoking and drinking whisky when Ava knocked on the door, looking frightened.

"Sir, there's a man here who insists on seeing you," she informed him, keeping her voice calm but with a trace of anxiety.

"Who is he?" asked James, taking a puff of his cigar.

"Mr. Peter," replied Ava.

"Let him in and make sure there are no interruptions," James instructed, keeping his expression serious.

"Excuse me," said Ava before stepping aside and allowing the visitor to enter.

A middle-aged man with gray hair and a wrinkled face entered the office, holding his hat close to his chest. He was wearing a dark suit that matched his serious expression and his
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