The others rose from the couch, closing in on me, glaring at me.
"Are you messing with us? If you don't bring out the money today, neither you nor she is leaving this room."
I sighed, looking down at Joyce, who was still kneeling on the ground.
Her hair was messy, her clothes disheveled, and the handprints on her face made her look pitiful.
Yet, there was no fear in her eyes.
"Stop pretending, Joyce. I know you're not that smart. Grayson is behind this, isn't he?"
A flicker of panic crossed her eyes, and she started to back away.
"Colten, what are you talking about? I don't understand."
Just at that moment, I received a message that read "OK" on my phone. Then I lowered my gaze.
"Nothing. But Joyce, I won't go soft on you again."
After my words, the door was kicked open from the outside, and my friend entered with a group of policemen.
Joyce, unable to maintain her facade, quickly scrambled to her feet and instinctively looked toward a hidden corner of the room.
I sneered and, in her incredulous gaze, kicked open the hidden door in the room.
