Allie turned her head towards the dark corner of the room, where she saw Evan pointing a loaded pistol at her.
It was only then that she realized what was inside the room. Guns and weapons were everywhere: on tables, in racks, of so many kinds. Evan himself held one in a manner that suggested he was no novice when it came to handling guns.
"Aren't you a curious little fox," Evan's voice was low and husky.
His eyes, appearing pitch black due to the lack of proper light, made him seem more dangerous, darker.
Allie faced him calmly. He lowered the pistol.
"So this is your little playroom," she remarked.
Evan Mori. Allie thought to herself. She had researched him thoroughly when she took the job from Redlip, but the man before her now had shades she hadn't anticipated, depths she had failed to uncover in her search.
"Isn't it a crime to point a pistol at your wife's head?" she said, her face emotionless.
