I’VE BEEN CAUGHT.
The air around me seems to have now thickened with tension, Dmitry’s cologne smell becoming more potent the more he walks closer to his desk. The thud sound of his shoes against the floor somehow echoes the loud beating of my heart in my chest, and I hold my breath when he rounds the desk, his shoes appearing in my line of vision.
Even if I want to hide, where’d I go? It’s even useless because he’s literally standing before me, his figure towering over my crouched frame, and I can feel the hairs at the back of my neck standing on attention as his gaze burns through my skull.
This is it. He might actually just finish me off now. Right?
“Looking for something, Zmeyka?”
I am snapped to reality by his low, rough voice, and I look up, locking gazes with him.
The emerald
