Ruthless

22

Amid our conversation, the door burst open, ushering in a gust of wind. Startled by the noise, I turned towards the door, swiftly tucking the hair behind my left ear that the chilling breeze had blown onto my face.

In walked Allison, Adrian, Adam, and Hades, catching me off guard.

What brings them here?

Actually, a more intriguing question loomed: Why are they here together?

Their collective presence hinted at a potential sinister plot. The mere contemplation of their agenda heightened my sense of distrust and discomfort.

Each time I felt I was edging closer to unraveling the suspense surrounding these people, a new incident occurred, causing me to question the limited information I had and pushing me back to square one.

"You can go," Allison instructed with a stern expression, her gaze fixed on Donna.

Donna, who had been within arm's reach just moments ago, now stood at a distance, wearing a nervous and scared expression. When did she move?

With a slight tilt of her head, followed by a quick bow, Donna promptly left without a second instruction or a moment's delay.

Once Donna was gone, a smile played on Allison's lips, leaving me perplexed by the woman's unpredictable mood shifts.

Also, it's fascinating how this woman seamlessly transitions from appearing kind to stern and even menacing with just a change of expression; she embodies each role as if it were tailor-made for her.

Closing the gap between us, she stops, maintaining a respectable distance. Her palms come together, and she rubs her hands.

"I'm sure there are numerous questions swirling in your mind," Allison drawls. Before I could respond, she quickly added, "Foremost among them being, why are we together?"

In response to her statement, my attention shifted to the trio of sinister yet captivating men who had casually taken their places on the couch. Adrian conveyed a playful wink, Adam maintained a Stoic and emotionless gaze, while Hades was immersed in his phone.

"Faith," My trance broke as Allison called out my name.

As my gaze returned to Allison, a flicker of irritation had taken residence on her face.

"I've been calling you for the past few moments. You can check them out later," she complained, her tone matching the displeasure evident in her expression.

I considered arguing that I wasn't checking anyone out, but I chose to remain silent.

"When I speak, I demand full attention," she continued, maintaining the same annoyed tone.

Again I yearned to retort sharply. Who did she think she was to demand my attention? I am my own person, and I will decide where to direct my focus and when. Unfortunately, expressing that sentiment was not an option at the moment. Suppressing my anger, I responded with a single nod.

"I'm sorry," I apologized submissively, recognizing her dissatisfaction with my earlier nod. She released a deep breath, seemingly attempting to regain her composure. This brought a small sense of satisfaction; at least I had some impact here. Perhaps enough to elevate her blood pressure.

"It's okay, honey. Just make sure it doesn't happen again," she said, smiling once more.

This woman is starting to unnerve me. Her constant smiling strikes me as peculiar. Is it necessary to smile so frequently just to convey a normal mood? I can't help but imagine her smiling at the thought of us being roasted in a hot frying pan. While the scenario might be different, I'm merely offering an example.