Johanna nodded, her face expressionless, her eyes blank. Though her gaze appeared numb, a desperate resignation lurked beneath the surface. She had been like this since Archie's death. Pele didn't care, unconcerned by her condition. After all, he needed only a useful pawn. In fact, he liked the hopeless look on her face. People like her, with nothing left to lose, were the ones who could dedicate everything to their mission—even their lives. Anger and hatred were essential for cultivating the will to kill.
As Pyte turned, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, a delighted grin spreading across his face. "Ms. Rosario," Pete called, a smirk playing on his lips as his gaze swept over her tense expression. "Your opportunity is here. Let's go. I'll have someone escort you out." He leaned closer, slipping a knife into Johanna's hand. "Go on, and don't disappoint me."
Johanna didn't react, merely tightening her grip on the knife. A cold, empty smile played on her lips before she walked away. Out of Pete's sight, her tightly clenched jaw twitched, revealing a chilling, venomous glint.
Morning traffic was heavy. Scarlet drove, occasionally glancing at Felicia in the back seat. "Boss, are you okay?"
Felicia hummed softly, leaning against the seat with her eyes closed. She looked much better after resting; her complexion had improved, no longer terrifyingly pale.
As the car approached the Russell residence, the iron gates opened automatically. Scarlet accelerated, driving inside. As the car slowed, Felicia instructed quietly, "Don't mention what happened last night."
"Understood." Scarlet parked and opened the door. As Felicia stepped out, she swayed, and Scarlet quickly steadied her.
Stanley emerged to greet them, stopping a few steps away. "Mrs. Russell, you're back? You don't look well. Are you hurt?"
"No. But I'm hungry. Please ask the kitchen to prepare something for me. Thank you." Her voice remained languid, her posture straightening as if nothing were amiss.
Stanley nodded and hurried off. The Russell residence had seen a chaotic skirmish the night before, but the staff's efficiency was astonishing.
As Felicia entered, she saw Stephan speaking into his phone, his back to her. She couldn't see his face, only hearing his commanding tone as he gave orders. A mischievous idea crossed her mind. She crept up behind him and reached out to cover his eyes.
Before she could speak, Stephan caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm without turning around. Felicia pouted. The touch was gentle yet intimate, sending a spark through her. Flustered, she tried to pull away, but Stephan tightened his grip, holding her closer.