Alexander leaned back slightly in his chair, impatience flickering across his otherwise calm face.
His dark eyes bore into Veronica as he asked sharply, "Are you sure she didn't have any contacts outside?
Are you Smiths trying to play me, Veronica?"
His tone had turned cold, murderous even, and it sent a chill down Veronica's spine.
The shift in the atmosphere was palpable.
Alexander's mind was racing. He suspected that the Smith family had been portraying a false image of Aurora, painting her in a deliberately poor light, perhaps hiding something — something important.
Veronica felt the unspoken threat beneath Alexander's words. One wrong answer and she knew the consequences wouldn't be mild.
For a moment, she faltered, her throat dry, but quickly composed herself, lowering her gaze in a show of humility.
"How could we ever do that to you, Mr. Brown?" she said, voice soft, almost hurt. "Why would we hide anything from you?"
