Travis's fingers stalled over the sleek surface of his mahogany desk, the grain pattern beneath his touch a stark contrast to the disarray of his thoughts. A crystal paperweight held down a stack of blueprints, blueprints he couldn't care less about at the moment. His eyes burned holes in the small, velvet-coated box perched innocuously atop the latest financial reports. It was yet another gift for Camila, and it hadn't come from him.

　　"Who the hell keeps sending these?" he ...