Kyra's POV
I couldn't stay passive any longer. Being trapped by Mason in this strange mansion was unthinkable. I needed to take control of the situation immediately.
Without hesitation, I snatched the gun from Nathan's hands and pointed it directly at Mason's chest. My hands trembled slightly, but my eyes remained locked on his face.
"Don't," Nathan whispered, placing his hand gently on my arm. "Let's find out what's going on first."
I ignored him, tightening my grip on the weapon. "Put your drink down, Mason. I won't hesitate to shoot."
Mason froze, his glass of whiskey halfway to his lips. He stared at me with an unreadable expression, neither afraid nor angry—just blank.
"Put the gun down, Kyra," he said calmly. "Someone desperate enough might pull that trigger—"
"I am desperate enough," I cut him off. "And I will pull this trigger if you don't answer my questions right now. Why did you bring us here? What are you really planning?"
