You Would Never Know

XXIX | A Snake in Human Skin

Practically everyone in the room was secretly analyzing Dali, as if we were recording data to identify her patterns and predict what would happen next.

From time to time, she'd nudge the tight-lipped man to get him to start talking, but when he kept avoiding her eyes, she got back to sitting somewhere on the cold floor while silently eyeing him, not paying heed to the eerie silence that had everyone on their toes.

Currently, her back is on the wall while she's seated on the ground with her legs straight and covered with my jacket to hide the exposed skin. She has an expression that says "I'm fine," but as someone who knows her like the back of their hand, I know she is racking her brain trying to understand what could've led to all of this.

Since she's not the type to ask for help from anyone, all I have to do is help her without asking her if she needs help, because if I did, the liar she is would say everything is fine, even when she visibly isn't. That's why, without a second thought, I went and picked her up—ignoring her protests and the jacket that fell—and sat her back down on the ground outside the room and locked the door to get him to talk.

My stride was steady towards him, and once I was close, it took one punch for him to lift his face and meet my eyes.

"Don't." My tone warned him; I wasn't going to waste more time listening to him apologize.

Without me even asking, someone brought me a chair for me to sit on while I talked to Pablo face-to-face. I took a seat, and without turning to any of my men, I demanded, "Bring me a revolver this instant."

I waited for less than a minute until I was given what I demanded.

Before I spoke, I checked if the revolver was empty, and it was, as I'd prefer since they're used to me playing this game.

"Come on, sit up properly." He tried but couldn't, so I asked someone to help him sit upright. Although I would've loved to see him struggle, we don't have the patience for that right now.

After a few minutes, when we were all settled, I finally started.

"Here's how this will go: there's only one single round in this revolver. I'll ask questions, and if you'll answer, I won't pull the trigger, but if you don't answer or take too long to answer, I'll pull the trigger."

I knew what to ask since I asked Dali to explain everything from the smallest detail to the biggest while this old man was unconscious for the millionth time.

"You, Pablo, sent a video to Dali that contains a supposed Rayne being tortured and you pretending to be me torturing him." I started, holding back a remark about how dare he think me and him look alike. The difference was like the sky and the ground.

"The first question is simple: why?"

My question was obviously not simple; it was straight to the point, and it's making him open and close his mouth like I have all the time in the world.

"You've taken too long."

I placed the muzzle on his head, making him tightly shut his eyes while distancing his face, as if that would help. I pulled the trigger, and when no shot was fired, he sighed in relief.

"Considering you're her right-hand man, you have access to a lot of things, and you could easily abuse this power; did you ever betray her other than this time?"

While many would start frantically defending themselves, Pablo kissed his teeth, which gave me a clear answer without him intending to. So I repeated the same action, placed the muzzle on his head, pulled the trigger, and he muttered a low, "Fuck," when no shot was fired.