The old man stops a step before me, his eyes bleeding immense hurt and wrath at me. They are an inferno of a combo of rage and hurt. His blood must be burning his veins. “Or else, I will give you more than you are looking for! I will disgrace you so much and expose all your cruelties to the world.”
His face darkens, and the fire in his eyes becomes more ardent. “You wouldn’t dare!” His cold, hoarse, broken words echo with a dreadful warning as our eyes hold each other.
“You don't want to dare me, Mr. De’Mario?” I challenge.
He half shakes his head, his eyes growing more vicious on me. He is looking at me as if he is battling to analyze me. He cannot believe that I am the one speaking; he is gauging whether I am demon-possessed and whether it is the demon’s spirit in me speaking. And I a
