"Ryan, honey, give me a hand. This stuff is killing me!" Linda struggled with the overflowing shopping bags in the trunk of the Lamborghini.
Ryan chuckled and ruffled her hair. "You goofball. Let me take care of that." He gathered the bags and followed Linda inside, catching the worried look on Michael’s face.
"Spit it out, Michael. What is it?" Ryan snapped.
Michael hesitated. "Sir, about Mrs. Walker… Shouldn’t we… let her out now?"
Ryan scoffed. "Mind your own business, Michael. What did that bitch offer you to stick your neck out for her?"
Michael swallowed hard, his face pale. "Sir, the… the smell coming from the basement… it’s… well, it’s been a week, and the metallic scent… it’s quite strong. Are you sure Mrs. Walker is… alright?"
"She's fine. A little bloodletting won’t kill her. We'll deal with her later." Ryan dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "She messed with Linda, she’s gonna pay. End of story."
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The readers' comments on the novel: After I left, the twin Alphas went crazy