With one final breath, Natalie opened the door and slipped inside, shutting it softly behind her and locking it. The room was dimly lit, and Ross was seated in the middle, leaning back in a chair, his expression smug yet calm. He watched her with an unsettling intensity, his gaze piercing through the silence.
His appearance was ordinary, almost nondescript—pale skin, a slight slouch, eyes that looked far too calculating for someone his age. Yet he radiated a confidence that felt unnerving, as if he held the world in his hands.
"How are you doing all of this?" Natalie demanded, her voice a little too loud in the quiet room. She didn't try to mask the mix of awe, fear, and anger that laced her words. Despite his unremarkable appearance, Ross seemed to exude an air of power, an almost supernatural control over everything around him.
