The tension between Amalia and Alex hung in the air like a charged current, crackling with uncertainty and unspoken accusations.
"You've played with lives, Amalia," Alex declared, his voice low and measured. He stood close, his presence both imposing and unsettling. Her heart raced, thudding wildly in her chest as her anxiety intensified.
"Sir, please, show some respect," Amalia implored, her voice quivering slightly. She attempted to maintain a facade of composure, despite the overwhelming unease that had taken hold of her.
Alex's response was cutting, his words dripping with a sharp disdain. "My respect is reserved for those who deserve it," he retorted, his gaze locked onto hers, unyielding and penetrating.
Amalia, struggling to regain her footing in this unexpected confrontation, pleaded her case, her voice trembling with a blend of fear and desperation. "You cannot accuse me of something without proof, sir."
A sardonic smile played on Alex's lips as he leaned in closer. "I've merely stated the truth, Amalia," he countered, his eyes boring into hers with unwavering resolve. Accusations hung in the air, and the gala's festivities seemed to fade into the background as the two individuals faced off, locked in a battle of words and wills.
With a firm grip on Amalia's hand, Alex led her to one of the private meeting rooms on the second floor of the gala venue. The room, bathed in soft, dimmed lighting, exuded an air of opulence. Deep mahogany wood adorned the walls, complemented by rich, plush furnishings. A large table, polished to a high sheen, occupied the center of the room, flanked by leather-upholstered chairs. The atmosphere was one of both elegance and secrecy.
As they entered the room, Alex's demeanor remained unyielding. He released Amalia's hand and, with a swift and unexpected motion, propelled her towards a sumptuous sofa that beckoned with its comfort.
"Ouch, that hurt," Amalia exclaimed, her earlier poise momentarily shattered. She hadn't anticipated the physicality of their encounter.
Her guardian is guarding her sister, so She is alone, with a Man.
'Damn I miscalculated, He Knows I will come to him, how come he as the level 3 guest have a reservation on the 2 floor", Amalia mind is Run at the fastest speed
Amalia's eyes narrowed as Alex continued to speak, his words cutting through the air like a knife.
"We don't have much time, so I will explain briefly to you," he began, his tone calm but direct. "You're smart, but you're also dumb."
"Dumb?" Amalia repeated, a hint of incredulity in her voice. She couldn't fathom why this man, whom she had thought she could manipulate, was now insulting her intelligence.
"You are dumb, and your family is dumb", She Roared, a challenge to her pride and intellect.
Alex's bold accusation that Amalia was "Dumb" cut deep into her pride.. Amalia felt a surge of irritation. She was the smartest woman not only in her family but also in the entire metropolis, with a string of international awards to prove her brilliance. To be called "dumb" by this man was a direct assault on her ego, and it rankled deep within her.
First this Scoundrel seduced her and now brought her to this private room, leaving her wondering about his intentions. The atmosphere in the room crackled with tension as Amalia grappled with the unexpected turn of events.
Amalia's anger flared as she raised her voice. "What did you say?" Her tone was sharp, demanding an explanation.
Alex, seemingly unfazed by her outburst, maintained a smirk on his face. "You think too highly of yourself," he retorted calmly.
Amalia's frustration grew as she struggled to understand this man's audacity. "Do you forget who your sister is?" she hissed through gritted teeth.
With a knowing look, Alex continued, "She is a legitimate daughter of our family."
The mention of Ria Hartwell, the legitimate daughter of their family and Amalia's half-sister, seemed to pour gasoline on the fire of Amalia's resentment. Her mother's arrival had led to the abandonment of Amalia's own mother, which had left deep scars on her. Amalia despised Ria to the core for being a constant reminder of her mother's suffering and her father's betrayal.
Amalia's frustration was palpable as she pressed for answers. "Why are you laughing? Just tell me!" Her patience was wearing thin, and she needed to understand the implications of Alex's words.
Alex chuckled softly before offering a somewhat cryptic response. "You're right; Ria is indeed the legitimate daughter of your family. But what you seem to have overlooked is something crucial, Amalia. Your hatred has clouded your judgment. Yes, you're incredibly smart, but it seems you've forgotten a significant detail."
Amalia raised an eyebrow, intrigued yet unsure of where this conversation was leading. "And what, pray tell, have I forgotten?"
Alex's smile widened, his gaze fixed on Amalia as he spoke with an air of mystery. "You've forgotten that she's not just a Hartwell. She's also a half blood"
Amalia's curiosity was piqued even further by Alex's revelation. "A half-blood? What do you mean?" She leaned in closer, trying to glean more information from the enigmatic man in front of her.
Alex maintained his composure, enjoying the intrigue he had sparked. "Yes, a half-blood. You see, besides the Hartwell blood, there's another lineage coursing through her veins—a lineage of great significance and power."
Amalia had indeed attempted to research her sister's background before but had hit a dead end with her mother's illness and limited information. Now, faced with this revelation, she couldn't help but feel a growing sense of unease. The mysteries surrounding her sister Ria seemed to be deeper and more complex than she had ever imagined.
In the recesses of Alex's memories, he harbored a deep-seated resentment for a particular group—the daughters and sons blessed by the heavens. These individuals were the chosen ones, born with unique destinies and abilities, and Ria was among them. He had unraveled the intricate threads of her lineage, her preordained fate, and her fateful encounter with the son of the heavens.
For Alex, these blessed ones were nothing short of an enigma. They lived their lives in rigthtious and indulgence, With disdain, he observed the daughters and sons of the heavens, who turned a blind eye to the plight of the Metropolis. Their righteous proclamations labeled the city as a cesspool of evil, conveniently absolving them of any responsibility. While Alex didn't deny the city's flaws, he believed that genuine change required a more nuanced approach, one that recognized the complexity of the Metropolis and sought to make a difference.
"And to kill her, you need my information about her other half's blood," Alex asserted, his voice laced with a chilling resolve. It was a revelation that had sent shockwaves through Amalia's mind, challenging her understanding of the world she thought she knew.
Amalia, however, wasn't one to easily yield, and she swiftly rejected his proposition. Her determination shone through as she refused to cooperate. She couldn't fathom aligning herself with someone whose motives and intentions remained veiled in shadow.
"No need, my man is already handle her", Amalia refuse
"Your guardian maybe died by now", he know it form his future memories, viktor could die
"Viktor...dead?" Amalia uttered the word almost in disbelief, her voice trembling as she contemplated the dire fate that might have befallen her trusted protector.
But then, the mention of Viktor, her guardian, brought a jolt of fear. Alex suggested that he might have met an untimely demise, referencing his future memories. This revelation cast a pall of uncertainty over the room, leaving Amalia in a state of disbelief and dread.
"I mean Dying, If you are not give him some first aid"
Alex swiftly corrected himself, acknowledging the ambiguity surrounding Viktor's situation. The term "dying" replaced "dead," but it did little to ease Amalia's unease. She couldn't fathom how an intermediate shadowist like Viktor could be in such a perilous state, especially considering his role as her guardian.
Amalia couldn't ignore the disturbing possibility that her guardian's life hung in the balance because of Ria's other blood. This revelation only deepened her concern, pushing her to further question Alex's motives and his knowledge of these clandestine matters.
Alex's enigmatic grin in response to her inquiry added to the sense of foreboding in the room. It was as if he relished the secrets and uncertainties that surrounded them. "As expected, it's so easy to talk to a smart person," he quipped, his words carrying a sense of intrigue and manipulation.
"What's the deal, Alex?"
"You help me defeat the Clown and save several people."
"The Clown? What do you mean?"
Alex's gaze remained fixed on his watch, and the seconds continued to slip away. As Amalia pressed for more information, demanding an explanation for his cryptic proposition, he offered no further details. Instead, he simply looked at her and stated, "Five minutes."
Amalia felt a sense of urgency building within her. She knew that time was rapidly dwindling, and her decision would carry immense weight. She couldn't let her guard down, not with someone as enigmatic as Alex.
"Your answer," he pressed, his tone unwavering.
Her frustration grew. "You need to explain first," Amalia insisted, unwilling to commit to a course of action without understanding the full scope of the situation.
But Alex remained steadfast, his eyes still fixed on his watch, as if every second were a precious commodity. "Agree or not, your answer."
Amalia was left both intrigued and infuriated by this mysterious man and his unsettling proposition. The mention of "the Clown" hung in the air, and the urgency of the situation was palpable. She knew she had to make a choice, and soon.
"Yes, the Clown," she finally conceded, unable to deny the gravity of the circumstances. The name itself sounded ridiculous, but she was about to step into a world of intrigue and danger that she couldn't yet comprehend.
---------------------------------
In the serene garden of the gala, an ominous scene unfolded. Several men lay unconscious on the ground, their fates hanging in the balance. Among them was Viktor, his expression one of disbelief and shock.
Ria, her demeanor tinged with a sinister edge, stood amidst the chaos. A chilling grin spread across her face as she taunted the unconscious Viktor, "So, my dear sister wants to deal with me, does she? Do you think I'm that foolish, sister?"
With a dismissive gesture, Ria tossed Viktor aside, his body now riddled with poison. It was clear that his life hung by a thread, and he had only Several minutes left.
Ria's gaze drifted toward the gala, the very event where her sister, Amalia, had attempted to ensnare her. She decided to play Amalia's game, fully aware that it would be a dangerous dance filled with deception and treachery. But Ria was determined, not only to exact revenge on her sister but also to utterly ruin her.
As she departed from the garden, the rustling of the wind bore witness to her chilling resolve and her blood-soaked path to vengeance. The stakes had been raised, and the siblings were locked in a deadly game that would test their wits and cunning to the fullest.