All eyes were fixed on the large screen at the front of the conference room.
The shifting light and shadows danced across the man's face, making it flicker between bright and dark.
Beneath his glasses, his calm black eyes lowered, sweeping impassively over the mischievous hand on the back of his own.
His hand was wrapped in several thick layers of gauze. The woman's soft fingers brushed over it gently, the sensation indistinct through the dressing.
But for some reason, Silas Grant suddenly felt his wound begin to seep blood again. In an instant, a wave of pain washed over him. It was so intense that his fingers, resting on his knee, curled uncontrollably, as if trying to grasp something to alleviate the piercing agony.
Their fingertips touched for just a second before he clenched his fist, enveloping her hand tightly in his grasp and pressing it firmly against his wound.
