Arianne gasped from the pain. Just as she was about to pick herself up, a pristine pair of high quality custom made leather shoes appeared before her eyes. Mark Tremont’s apathetic voice came from above her head.
“You have two minutes.”
Arianne looked up into his deep orb eyes and carefully probed. “Can you... let them go now?”
She did not catch the disappointment that flashed across the bottom of his eyes. What he wished to hear was not this.
“You’re wasting my time if that’s all you had to say after chasing after my car so recklessly.”
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