Ninah felt adrenaline pumping through her veins, igniting a fire within her resolve.
Whoever had dared to speak of tomorrow was a liar.
It was late—far too late—and she knew the dangers that lurked in the night, but there was no other choice: she had to confront Plutonic and bring him home.
With determination etched on her face, Ninah stormed out of the mansion.
Driving was out of the question. She inhaled deeply, murmuring a few incantations under her breath; soon, she found herself hovering in mid-air, ready to soar to Plutonic's office, high above the prying eyes of the human world.
Appearance didn't matter; she had no concern for how she looked or whether her makeup was intact. Her focus was singular. The well-being of her family—her son and herself—was all that mattered.
As she approached the towering building that housed Plutonic's office, she slowed her descent and landed a few blocks away. Caution guided her; she peered around for any curious onlookers before making her way inside.
Riding the elevator to Plutonic's floor, Ninah could hear her own heart pounding furiously in her chest.
She had never considered herself weak, yet right then, a knot of anxiety churned in her stomach. She was one of the bravest in their clan, yet here she was, stricken by nerves.
"Yes? How may I assist you?" The receptionist's weary gaze greeted her, framed by heavy circles under her eyes, evidence of too many late nights spent at the office.
Ninah swallowed hard, clearing her throat before responding. Her eyes caught the receptionist's—an attractive woman despite her fatigue, and suddenly, Amina's teasing words about her beauty echoing in her mind.
Ninah wasn't ugly. She was dark-skinned, dark-haired, slender, and tall. Plutonic had chosen her, hadn't he? Or maybe her worth lay beyond looks—the kind of connection that transcended superficiality.
Plutonic was a striking man: tall, shaven, a dark-skinned magnet for attention. He was the kind of man women were drawn to, and though Ninah and Plutonic represented the only dark-skinned family in the FireWing clan, they had never felt inferior.
"Um, I'm here to see Plutonic," Ninah said hesitantly, as if her voice might betray her apprehension.
The receptionist's eyebrows shot up. Ninah could almost see the gears turning in her head. Who comes in the middle of the night, casually addressing her boss by name?
"And you are?" The blonde asked, a flicker of intrigue in her tired eyes. Her curiosity heightened by Ninah's nonchalant demeanor.
Ninah maintained her composure, feeling the receptionist's judgment. "Please tell my husband I'm here to see him. Or should I simply introduce myself?" A small bite of sarcasm slipped out—an unguarded response.
"Madam, please accept my apologies. Mr. Plutonic is currently in a critical meeting with the board of directors and some stockholders."
Ninah scoffed inwardly. A meeting at this hour? Plutonic's eccentricities didn't surprise her anymore.
"Yes, ma'am. Most of the board was unavailable during the day, so the meeting was rescheduled for the evening," the receptionist explained.
Ninah acknowledged her words, even though she was resolved to wait. "Can you tell me when the meeting is expected to conclude?" she inquired, resting her elbows on the desk.
"Typically it lasts about three hours unless they're discussing especially critical matters. There should be roughly an hour left," the receptionist replied, offering a slight smile.
"Thanks. I'll wait," Ninah said, retreating to the cold metallic benches that felt like ice beneath her. She suppressed a shiver, brushing aside the occasional concerned glances from the receptionist.
Thirty minutes crept by like an eternity. The receptionist disappeared behind a door, only to return with two steaming mugs of coffee. She offered one to Ninah, who accepted eagerly.
"Thanks," Ninah murmured, clutching the warmth of the cup as if it were a lifeline.
"Welcome, Mrs. Plutonic," the receptionist said with another small smile.
"Just call me Ninah," she replied, seizing the chance to connect amid the tension.
"Gaby, like some of my friends," the receptionist introduced herself.
"Nice to meet you, Gaby." The words were a distraction from the gnawing stress that consumed her.
"Have you been here long?" Ninah asked, curiosity guiding her.
"Two years," Gaby said, her interest piqued.
"Is it a good place to work?" Ninah pressed, hoping to kill time.
"Y-yeah, it is. The pay is decent. No complaints," Gaby stuttered, caught off guard.
Ninah nodded, trying to be polite while her impatience mounted. As the minutes dragged on, the ticking clock became a relentless reminder of her anxiety.
"You could wait in his office," Gaby suggested after three interminable hours of Ninah's pacing.
"No. I'll stay here," Ninah insisted, crossing her arms defiantly.
She appreciated Gaby's concern, but she was lost in her thoughts, and the clock felt like a loud mocking specter.
It became unbearable. Six a.m. was creeping upon her; the seconds faded into emptiness. Driven by the need to act, she stormed out. She had waited long enough.
"Everyone was worried about you," Amina remarked as Ninah entered the house. "Gregorz hasn't woken up yet."
How could she explain to Amina that she hadn't seen Plutonic? That she spent the night waiting for him to emerge from his nebulous "meeting"? It felt like Plutonic had begun to care more for the world of wealth than the cherished family that awaited him at home.
Yet deep down, she loved him too fiercely to harbor anger indefinitely.