Mona sat on a plush, velvet armchair in the dimly lit living room, the flickering light from the fireplace casting shadows across her stern face.
Her fingers drummed rhythmically on the armrest as she awaited a report.
The sudden sound of hurried footsteps broke the silence, and one of her most trusted loyalists burst into the room.
His chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, and his eyes darted nervously around.
Mona's frown deepened as she sat upright. "What is going on, and why are you acting tensed?" she demanded, her tone sharp and unforgiving.
The man hesitated, his hands fidgeting nervously. "I'm sorry, ma'am. It's just that… things have taken an unexpected turn," he said, his voice shaky.
"What do you mean by your words?" Mona asked, her eyes narrowing as she leaned forward. Her gaze bore into him, making the man shift uneasily.
