Young Aether felt as though he had achieved the third degree of manhood as sweat poured down his face like bullets. His hands, which had been gently comforting Sasha, froze midway through the motion while his trembling eyes locked onto the woman standing at the doorway.
She held a bloody kitchen knife in one hand, fresh crimson droplets slowly sliding down the blade before running over her fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt.
Sasha continued crying as though nothing had happened, remaining in his embrace while dressed in nothing but her underwear, completely unaware of the terrifying atmosphere that had descended upon the room.
Maiuri silently stared at Young Aether before shifting her gaze toward the nearly naked Sasha. Her expression never changed, yet the coldness in her eyes made it painfully obvious that she had already reached her own conclusion.
Grip.
