Lucius's car was parked in the villa's yard. He strode ahead, with Sylvia and Scarlett trailing behind him like shadows. Sylvia, eager and oblivious, made a beeline for the shotgun seat. Just as her hand grazed the door handle, Lucius's voice sliced through the air, cold as ice, "Get in the back."
Sylvia froze, her face a canvas of embarrassment. She hesitantly rerouted to the back door. Lucius shot a glance at Scarlett, "You, take the front."
Scarlett didn't dare steal a glance at Sylvia's mortified expression and obediently slipped into the front seat. The car was enveloped in a silence so thick you could cut it with a knife. It was as if the quiet was strangling them, not around their heads, but their throats.
The dim light inside the car cloaked Lucius's face in shadows. Scarlett could feel the storm brewing inside him. He floored the accelerator and they were soon tearing down the asphalt road.
