Harold’s Demands
As workers bustled around, Harold strode forward, his face set in a scowl. “Proof of ownership,” he demanded, his posture rigid, exuding an air of superiority as if the entire scene was beneath him. His tone dripped with entitlement, but I refused to be rattled. Despite my growing frustration, I held his gaze, unwavering. This was my home, my domain, and no amount of arrogance on his part could change that. Steeling myself, I prepared to present the proof he so smugly demanded.
Harold’s Demands
Showing The Papers
I retrieved my documents, my hands steady despite the turmoil raging inside me. “Here’s all the proof you need,” I said, laying the ownership papers in front of Harold with deliberate precision. I hoped the undeniable weight of my evidence would chip away at his composed facade. His eyes scanned the documents, but his expression remained inscrutable. Even so, I stood my ground, willing him to confront the truth staring him in the face.
Showing The Papers
