I studied Angela as she ate, her movements graceful, her expression almost warm. But I knew better. This wasn't kindness—it was calculation. Every gesture, every word, was a piece of a puzzle I hadn't yet solved. Why was she treating me like this? What was the angle?
My instincts screamed at me: She's plotting something. Behind that composed smile, behind the fleeting softness in her eyes, lurked the same cold-blooded monster I'd seen in the lab.
The woman who ordered doses like they were nothing. The woman who saw people as pawns. And now, for some reason, I was one of them.
But then again... maybe that was the thrill of it.
There was something intoxicating about her—the way she carried herself like an empress surveying her kingdom, ruthless and untouchable. The challenge in her gaze, the unspoken promise of danger. She wasn't just playing a game; she was rewriting the rules. And if I was going to survive, I had to play along.
