Ruthless

7

Suddenly, Adam whirled me around, bringing me face to face with him once more. Our eyes locked, and my scream, which had been echoing just a second ago, was abruptly silenced.

Adam's eyes, while they were like every other human, beautiful but ordinary, yet held a dark gleam that defied comprehension. It was an unsettling aspect of Adam's presence I have experienced since he entered this room—a sinister aura.

In that strange moment, time also seemed to stand still, and the people around us moved in slow motion just like you see in those movies. Doubt clouded my mind, and I questioned my own sanity in the midst of these bewildering events, struggling to make sense of my own words.

We remained locked in our wordless connection, our gaze unbroken, stretching on for what felt like an eternity.

Adam's attention shifted to my right hand, which tightly grasped the gun. There was no bloodstain on it, but it had just taken two lives ruthlessly. Then, his eyes returned to my face, which must have been as pale as death, given the intense fear I was experiencing at the moment.

Adam gently took hold of the wrist of the hand that held the gun, all without breaking our gaze. His touch sent an oddly electrifying shiver down my spine and I cannot help but shudder. I hoped no one noticed it.

"Don't, Adam. I know what you're thinking," Allison said, her voice stern yet tinged with a hint of pleading.

I desperately wished someone would tell me that he was merely admiring my beautiful hands, even if it was a blatant falsehood. I needed to hear that. An assurance that I'll be fine.

I had no clue about his intentions. My mind was already struggling to come to terms with the recent events, and I feared I wouldn't be able to survive another nightmarish ordeal.

I suppressed the urge to turn my head toward Allison and ask what was going on inside Adam's mind.

"Please..." I found myself uttering involuntarily.

When his fingers clamped around my wrist, and in that vice-like grip, I glimpsed the chilling truth of his intentions—he meant to break my hand. It was payback for the gun I had aimed at Allison, even though their resemblance was subtle, their eyes were undeniably the same.

As Nicole had taunted, Allison was not childless; Adam was her own flesh and blood.

Despite the pain that was steadily escalating, I sensed that Adam wanted me to fully grasp his motives before proceeding with his plan. He possessed the strength to snap my bones in an instant, but his sadistic nature drove him to torment me mentally as well.

One might think I had known Adam for ages, even though we had just crossed paths. Adam was an enigmatic puzzle, but there were facets of his character that became apparent within moments of being in his presence.

I bore the agony in silence, refusing to make a single sound. Just when I believed my bone was on the brink of breaking, a shrill ring pierced the air.

"Adam," her voice rang out, laced with relief. "Your grandfather is demanding your immediate presence.

Adam's grip on my wrist eased up noticeably, though he didn't entirely let go.

I let no complaints—not because I was comfortable with his hold, but because the pain had momentarily receded. He continued to scrutinize me for a few more seconds before finally showing me mercy.

My hand fell limp against my right thigh, like a lifeless object.

Adam silently executed a U-turn and exited the room without a word. Following him, Allison became the second person to depart.