Chapter 82 – The Confrontation

Mannie’s POV

After sending David away, I thought the rest of my day would finally calm down.

I didn’t expect to see his parents. Not at work. Not even today.

The moment the news reached my department, my stomach flipped.

“David’s parents are in the lobby!” someone whispered.

“They came in person—both of them.”

“Did they come for a meeting?”

“No,” another replied. “They’re asking for Mannie.”

My pen slipped from my hand.

For a moment, I couldn’t move. My throat went dry.

“What?” I whispered.

But the whispers only grew louder.

By the time I stood up, everyone was already staring.

---

Downstairs, the lobby was buzzing.

Employees whispered in corners, sneaking glances toward the elegant couple seated on the velvet couch.

The woman sat upright, her posture perfect, and her heels crossed neatly. Every movement she made was graceful—too graceful. Her fingers tapped the cup of tea lightly, her nails painted red, her expression sharp enough to cut glass.

The man beside her leaned back in silence, his large frame radiating control. His eyes were darker than black, the kind of eyes that didn’t blink often. His stillness carried a weight that pressed against the room itself.

Something about them made the air feel heavier.

Even the security guards stood straighter.

“They look… intense,” one of the receptionists whispered.

“Intense?” the other muttered. “They look like they own the place.”

The couple barely spoke, but the way they watched everything—every movement - every sound—made people nervous.

When I arrived, my hands were clammy. My heart raced.

I had only seen pictures of David’s parents online. None of them captured the sharpness in their gaze.

They turned toward me the instant I stepped in.

The mother’s nostrils flared slightly as though she were sniffing the air. The father’s eyes narrowed.

I didn’t notice, of course. I thought it was disdain.

Their gaze trailed over me like I was something they needed to evaluate.

For a split second, I felt like prey.

I swallowed hard. “You asked to see me?”

The mother rose first. Her movement was too smooth—almost silent.

“Follow us,” she said. Her voice was calm but carried something underneath it. A quiet command that made my skin crawl.

Before I could reply, she was already walking away, her husband beside her.

The sound of their steps was steady. Too steady. Each one landed with a rhythm that reminded me of a heartbeat—controlled, deliberate, powerful.

---

The meeting room was cold.

I sat on the chair near the door while they sat opposite me, perfectly composed.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then, without warning, the mother slammed a photograph on the table.

The sound made me flinch.

It was an old picture—David and a young woman. The woman didn’t look like me, not exactly. But she had features that mirrored Lily’s smile and Jay’s eyes.

My breath caught.

“Why are people suddenly resembling my children?” I muttered quietly, not realizing I’d spoken out loud.

The woman leaned forward, her tone sharp. “We came here to give you one warning,” she said. “Stop pretending to be the woman in our son’s memory.”

My lips parted. “What?”

Her voice rose slightly, cold and sharp. “You’re confusing him. He’s been through enough. Don’t use his condition to get close to him.”

Her husband’s eyes flickered, a low rumble escaping his throat so soft I almost didn’t hear it. It wasn’t anger—it sounded… like that of an animal.

He looked at me with unreadable calm, but I could swear the air around him vibrated faintly, like a low growl hidden behind silence.

I shifted nervously. “I’m not pretending to be anyone,” I said finally, my voice trembling at first but growing firm. “If anything, I’ve been trying to stay away from him.”

Something in my tone made the father’s gaze soften—only a little.

He tilted his head slightly, studying me. His nostrils flared once again.

A strange silence followed.

It was as if he was scenting the truth.

I didn’t understand the flicker of curiosity in his eyes.

The mother, however, wasn’t done.

“Don’t play innocent,” she said sharply. “You’re not the first woman to try and use my son’s affection for gain.”

I sighed quietly. “Look, I understand your concern,” I said softly. “But I already have enough problems in my life. I don’t need to add yours.”

Her brows furrowed, offended by my calm tone.

“I don’t even understand how he came to that conclusion,” I continued. “He’s been seeing me in this company for a while now, and none of that happened until suddenly. If he suddenly thinks I’m someone from his past, then maybe you should be asking him why—not me.”

The father’s hand rested on the table. His fingers twitched slightly. I noticed the faint shadow of veins rising beneath his skin—almost like his body was fighting something from within.

He inhaled slowly and exhaled slower. The tension in the air eased just a little.

His wife’s eyes darted to him, irritation flickering across her face.

“Are you believing her?” she hissed quietly.

“She’s not lying,” he said in a low voice. It was steady, but the tone carried something primal—something that vibrated through the air.

Her lips parted, but no sound came. For a second, her eyes flashed golden, then dimmed just as quickly.

I blinked, confused by what I thought was a trick of the light.

“Excuse me?” I asked, unsure if I heard them right.

The woman quickly regained her composure, and her face smooth again. “We just came to warn you,” she said.

“Then you’ve done your part,” I said softly. “Now, can I go back to work?”

She stared at me, clearly not expecting that answer.

Her husband stood slowly, his chair barely making a sound. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice deep and final.

The woman frowned, hesitating for a moment. Her gaze flicked between me and her husband. Then she sighed sharply and stood too.

As they walked past me, the faint scent of something wild brushed the air— It smells just like David.

I wrinkled my nose, thinking it was their perfume.

When they reached the door, I heard the woman whisper, “She doesn’t smell like her.”

Her husband gave a short grunt in response.

I didn’t understand what that meant, but it made the back of my neck prickle.

The door opened, and they stepped out with the same silent grace they’d entered with.

---

The moment they were gone, I sank into the chair.

My legs trembled. My palms were sweaty.

“Dear God,” I breathed, pressing a hand to my chest.

The room still felt heavy, like the air they’d brought with them refused to leave.

It wasn’t just their presence—it was the way they looked at me, as if they could see straight through me.

It was suffocating.

I rubbed my temples, trying to calm my nerves.

“I’m not pretending,” I whispered to myself again. “I’m not.”

I stood, straightened my blouse, and took one last deep breath before heading for the door.

The moment I stepped back into the hallway, the gossip began again—soft and buzzing like flies.

“Did you see the people who came?”

“They looked like royalty.”

“I heard they came for her.”

“What did she do now?”

I kept walking, my eyes fixed ahead. I didn’t bother with their whispers. Not like their whispers could feed me.

At the lobby entrance, I caught a glimpse of the couple one last time.

They were standing close, their heads bent together, speaking in low tones.

The man’s hand brushed the woman’s arm gently, a silent gesture to calm her. For a split second, her eyes flickered again—gold catching the light like an illusion.

I blinked.

When I looked again, they were already gone.

I walked towards the bathroom.

After pouring water on my face, I let out a deep breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

“Lord,” I whispered, allowing the water to drip down my face. “Please let the rest of the day just go peacefully.”