"An answer?" laid exposed at her husband's side, the wife could but see cruelty. The girl squirmed per the strong fingers wrapped around her chin. He'd gaze maliciously at the ladies. A part of Mr. Go sought to run and hide. Another part wanted to cry and wail although, none could help.
"So," he moved to squat before the wife's face, "-might I have an answer?"
"…" Complete silence, the servants stood in utmost horror.
"Don't move," a line drew, *Blood-Arts: Crimson Threads,* two more left for death, the blood all but amplified the crystal halo. "Crying for help isn't going to matter," a deathly half-smirk had the family hurdle in protection, "-so, might I have an answer?"
