“Where do you think you’re going, darling?”
“…!?”
“Why don’t you stay for the party?” The low voice I was familiar with made me turn back. He was walking toward me. The end of a muzzle of a familiar gun was pointing right to the center of the face. My eyes widened at the sight. I did not expect him to be here with my gun. He even ignored the remains of Richard on the floor, as if he had already known what would happen.
I was the opposite, having not expected him to come, probably because I was only interested in what was happening in front of me, so I could not look at the trackers, to see where everyone’s location was.
Part of me still trusted that he would not make a move.
This was absolutely different from what I had expected.
“Owen,” I said his name. I clenched my fist tight, trying to help myself up by holding onto the railing. Owen stared at me. His lips curved into a smile, even though he seemed wary.