"Yeah… that creepy clone. Don't get tangled up with him unless you want to go as mad as he is." His face soured at the mention.
Not long after, the door slid open. A few waitresses entered the room, followed by a robot trolley rolling behind them, stacked with desserts prepared for Lethia.
But the moment one waitress placed a tray in front of her and uncovered it, Lethia's expression twisted into absolute horror.
Her eyes sparked with fury, deep, visceral, unfiltered rage. Her parted lips trembled, her fists clenched tight like they might crack her own bones.
She wanted to slam that tray into the wall—hard—but she gritted her teeth and forced herself to stay still.
"Throw it."
The servants glanced at each other in confusion, clearly thrown off by Lethia's outburst. Renar, just as stunned by her sudden shift, tried to cut through the tension with a careful question.
"What is it, Lethia? Isn't this your favourite dessert?"
