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21. A Mirror of My Own Making
Rima’s POV
By the time it was our rehearse for presentation in his home office, it was around six in the evening.
My mind was still entangled in the web of today's shocking revelations. I was seething, simmering with a fury that threatened to scorch my sanity.
He, the man I had begun to trust, had revealed his ties to the very entity I abhorred to my core - the mafia. Perhaps, he was still knee-deep in the underworld for all I knew. His vague responses neither confirmed nor denied the extent of his involvement with his notorious family.
A bitter question gnawed at my heart. How had I fallen into this abyss once more? What cosmic jest was this, God? I tasted bitterness, acrid and potent, as if I had bitten into the most bitter fruit imaginable.
This bitterness permeated my demeanor, rendering my interactions with him as dry and rigid as autumn leaves. The words between us, once flowing freely, were now as scarce as raindrops in a desert.
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