The Reencounter

Locked in a gaze with the man whose eyes radiated an ominous intensity, sharp as a hawk's, Emma Hart felt as though she might be torn apart any second, as if she had unwittingly provoked his anger once again. 

 

Lately, this man seemed to take particular pleasure in calling out her name. 

 

"What would the President like to instruct?" she asked, maintaining her composure. 

 

Damian Sterling tossed the tablet to Emma, "Pick one." 

 

"One what?" Confused, Emma caught the tablet, only to see it displayed a selection of white wedding dresses, "For whom?" 

 

"You!" 

 

"Me?" Emma pointed to herself, puzzled. Why was she choosing a wedding dress again, reminiscent of that nightmarish wedding ceremony? 

 

"I've decided on my condition," he stated, fixing his gaze upon her. 

 

A sense of foreboding washed over Emma, "What condition?"