You won't forget me 2

IMOGEN'S POV

The rough grip on my arms loosened just before they shoved me into a chair. My head spun as the bag covering my face was yanked off, the sudden brightness stinging my eyes. The air smelled like whiskey and cigar smoke, thick and suffocating.

I barely had time to take in my surroundings before I saw him.

Valentine Sutton.

He sat calmly, cleaning his glasses like this was just another business meeting. His suit was pressed perfectly, not a hair out of place. He looked up, sliding the glasses back onto his face, and smiled.

"We finally meet, spitfire bitch."

I let out a soft chuckle, my throat raw from the struggle. My wrists ached from the binds they had just undone, but I didn't move. I didn't need to. Not yet.

A table sat between us, and on it, a neatly stacked document lay waiting. A pen had been placed right on top, like some kind of polished threat.