"It... it doesn't make any sense," Angel stammered, her voice faltering. She hated how unsteady she sounded, how unsure.
Arthur immediately seized on her hesitation. His expression turned sorrowful, his lips curling into a small, pitiful frown. It was a performance—one designed to push her over the edge.
"Yes, dear," he said, his voice dipping into something almost mournful. "And the worst part? If you think this is bad… just wait until you hear what Tryson did."
He watched, waiting, and then—there it was.
The spark of curiosity flickered in Angel's eyes, the way her body tensed ever so slightly.
She was hooked.
It was a small victory, but to Arthur, it meant everything.
Mission one: accomplished. Now came the real game—ensuring that by the end of all this, she would despise Tryson with every fiber of her being.
If he could make that happen, then the rest of his plan would fall into place seamlessly.
Because in the end, this wasn't just about ruining Tryson's name.
