"No, Revan, no!" This voice echoed through a grand and dimly lit mansion; it was filled with remorse and a tinge of hate.
Inside the sprawling, centuries-old complex, a certain news stunned Penelope and led to her outburst.
She paced restlessly around the room, her gaze shifting through a whirlwind of emotions—worry, guilt, and piercing pain. Revan, her husband, tried to calm her down, but how could she mellow?
"Just let me go. I want to go have a simple talk with Amias, and the rest of those monkeys," Penelope said with a squeezed smile, gesturing to the door that Revan blocked. "May I, honey?"
"Absolutely... not!" the man rejected firmly, not giving her any chances of negotiation.
Hearing his words, Penelope's smile contracted into a deep frown. "No? Why are you preventing me from hurting the waste scheming against our child!?"
"I am not preventing that—"
