God, before he turns around, please give me a crack in the ground to hide in! My nails dig deep into my palms, yet I feel no pain. My cheeks burn, my ears scorch, and I stumble forward in panic. Sensing Barnett's amused gaze, the golden flames dancing in his eyes seem to pierce through my soul, and I hurriedly clear my chaotic thoughts.
Beside him, Heather glares at me in disbelief, the gemstone ring on her finger scraping against the armrest with a grating sound—her look is so venomous it could flay me alive. Hmph, you old witch, never thought I'd escape, did you?
Rui Jones' gaze slithers over me, dark and insidious, his pale fingers unconsciously tracing the rim of his glass. His eyes coil around me like a serpent, whispering and creeping. The elders and ministers seated on either side of the red carpet scrutinize me—some see a beauty, others a demon.
