MasukMom’s part—or even her opposition—faded instantly as I fell to the ground, my whole body slamming against the marbled floor. The impact sent a painful bolt through every part of me, but the exhaustion weighing me down was far worse, so much so that I barely acknowledged the pain.My eyes suddenly went blurry, filling with stinging tears that refused to fall. My chest tightened. I tried so hard to breathe, inhaling and exhaling the small amount of air that kept getting stuck in my throat.The atmosphere within the office changed in an instant. The stillness vanished, replaced by an echoing rage coming from her direction. She pounded her fist onto the desk, making a loud crack that startled me.“What’s your problem, Sebastien?” she yelled.She finally yelled.Finally, the woman I used to know was back. If I weren’t so exhausted, I would have smiled in relief, because I couldn't recognize her when she was smiling and acting loving toward him—toward her ex-husband's former best friend.I
Her attention was no longer on me, but entirely locked onto the little book in his hand.“Don’t stop!” she commanded sharply, her voice barking out the order even though her gaze never left the journal.I didn't stop, but I slowed my movements, desperately reading every fracture in her reaction. Her eyes darkened as she stared at the pink cover. The rigid composure she always wore began to crack; her hands visibly shook before she quickly adjusted her posture, forcing a brittle smile that failed to reach her eyes.“Sebastien, darling,” she purred, drawing closer to the desk. “Why do you have that? What was it doing with Dorothy?”Uncle Sebastien’s gaze, which had been fixed on my every move with an unsettling, heavy intensity, finally flicked over to her, then back down to the journal. He turned it sideways, examining the spine with thorough, clinical precision before looking back up at her.“What is this called?”Mother’s brows furrowed deeply. Her hands tightened against the fabric o
Here is a cleaned, polished version of the scene that tightens the pacing, fixes the grammar, and heightens the tense, emotional atmosphere of the teaser scene:“M…mother?”I murmured the word under my breath, watching her stand beside Sebastien. She shot me a sharp, warning look before turning to him and murmuring softly, “Remember, she still has one more thing to do.”A familiar, icy glint softened her eyes—a look I rarely ever saw on her. The journal in my hands suddenly felt heavy, like an extra weight dragging me down.Uncle Sebastien didn't say a word. He only let out a low hum of complete disinterest. With my mother in the room, the chair beneath me instantly grew uncomfortable. She pulled out a seat, her eyes roaming the library as if she had never stepped foot inside it before. It was strange; at our old house, she had a personal library that only she could access, yet here, she acted as though she were looking at a foreign world.“Indeed,” Sebastien muttered. His eyes shifte
I felt a sudden heat engulf me from behind. My body tensed.It's not what I am thinking it is, right? Right? I swallowed. The ribbon, which rested at the top of the shelf, now felt like a twinge of mockery at my advances. He cleared his throat. I didn't need to turn around to know that he was staring daggers at me.Instead, my eyes lowered down to my feet, seeing his two black polished shoes behind my small sandals. His expensive cologne hit the back of my nostrils; it was the definition of "if perfumes could speak."I quivered a bit, not from the chills coming from the air conditioner or the cool breeze entering the parted window. He raised his hand, the weight stretched forth beside me.My eyes looked in curiosity at what he intended to do. His hand touched the ribbon, his touch with a gentleness contrasting his whole personality. I expected him to pull it, to give it to me. Instead, he pushed it further."I gave you a punishment," his deep voice reverberated behind me. The chills g
I scribbled aggressively across the pages, my handwriting turning messier with each line.‘I hate him.’I repeated the words several times on each page, bitterly, until I got tired. I stopped and took in a deep breath. The silence in the room filled my ears. The only things I could hear were the beating of my heart and the deep exhales leaving my lips.I stared at the journal, looking at every imprint I had made on the pages. The sour scent of sweat clung to me, mixed with tears I hadn’t even realized had escaped my eyes without crying.My hands shook at every thought running through my head as realization hit me harder. He had been watching my every move, every reaction, the anger strained across my features, even the sweat and tears that had fallen abruptly.He leaned down slightly, pulled open one of the desk drawers in front of him, and brought out a box of wipes. He dropped them smoothly onto the desk, examining me once more. He didn’t point out the aggression in the journal, nei
“But…” He shunned me with another look, his other hand tapping softly against the rich wooden desk. I swallowed the invisible lump that seemed stuck down my throat. Staying here in this office with him was one thing. But walking closer to him? That was another. “Dorothy…” he called impatiently, glancing at the watch around his wrist. Dorothy, it’s just a punishment. Just go to him. I silently hyped myself up and took shaky steps closer. “Alright?” I confirmed quietly, still standing almost three meters away from him. He didn’t answer. He didn’t even blink. Instead, he looked unimpressed. He didn’t direct me on whether I was doing the right thing or not. Instead, he kept staring intently at me, as though I had done something far worse than yesterday. Yes, I had done wrong. But I didn’t know what I was thinking back then. And somehow, part of me still blamed him for it. The digital clock on the wall ticked slowly. With every passing second, the atmosphere grew thicker. Then h
Uncle Sebastien walked in wearing a plain dark T-shirt that hugged his muscles. I found myself staring more than necessary, and I also noticed Mom staring even more.The flushed look on her face disappeared, and what was left was a smile filled with embarrassment and adoration. The thought and sigh
Sebastien walked closer, his face as cold as ever, though I noticed a bit of warmth in his eyes. He leaned over and held my foot again.I tried protesting once more, but a warning glance from him made me change my mind.He inspected my ankle like it was a project, his touch contrasting sharply with
“Him? Mom, you’re kidding, right? This is Uncle Sebastien, dad’s best friend.” I said, forgetting how loud I was.Lots of emotions ran through me. I wanted an explanation. I wanted to know how… what happened, and why he chose to marry my mother.Sebastien didn’t blink. He didn’t try to explain or r
I followed him silently, my eyes boring into the back of his head. This man was no driver, he was something I couldn’t explain. I had never seen anyone except my mother make Mrs. Ivanoski act so humbled.He paused and turned slowly.Behind those dark glasses was the same cold look. He tilted his he







