Chapter 6 - The Smile of Defiance
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What Brandon didn’t understand was that my father had taught me one fundamental rule since childhood: never ask for help unless you are ready for absolute war.
The guests continued recording, whispering among themselves, believing they were witnessing the final moments of my downfall. They didn’t know they were collecting high-definition evidence of their own destruction.
Brandon forced the pen into my hand again, his grip tightening hard enough to bruise my skin.
"I don't know what stupid panic button you just pressed," Brandon hissed, his voice losing its confident edge. "But the police are on my payroll. Nobody is coming to save you. Sign it!"
I looked down at the papers, reading the bold letters transferring my life's work to a monster. Then, I looked up at him.
For the first time that night, I smiled.
It wasn't a smile of defeat. It was a chilling, predatory smile.
That frightened him. He took a half-step back, dropping my wrist.
"What are you smiling about?" Brandon demanded, his eyes darting nervously around the room.
"Because you just made your biggest mistake, Brandon," I whispered. "You locked the doors from the inside."
His expression changed from arrogance to sheer confusion.
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"So what?" he spat.
"So," I replied, the smile never leaving my face, "that means none of you can run away."
