"If you came here looking for Leo, you should leave. He isn't home yet," Celine said, her tone sharp. She fought hard to hide the tremor in her voice, though her chest thundered with a mixture of loathing and terror.
Richard did not back away. Instead, he stepped forward slowly, each click of his shoes against the marble floor sounding like a death knell to Celine's ears. "I am not looking for him, sweetie. I am looking for you, Celine," Richard whispered. His voice was raspy, laden with a hidden intent that made the hair on her neck stand on end.
"I only wanted to greet my beautiful daughter-in-law," Richard continued. Without permission, he placed a large, calloused hand on Celine's shoulder, squeezing it gently as if appraising the quality of a piece of merchandise.
The touch felt like fire searing her skin. Celine flinched, disgust rising in her throat. "Get your filthy hands off me, Richard!" she screamed, bolting upright and violently shoving the old man's hand away.
