"I..." I started to respond.
"You can't."
A cold voice cut through the air.
The door to the room swung open.
My heart skipped a beat, and I snapped my head up.
Lyman stood at the entrance with a sullen face.
He scanned the room before his eyes locked onto mine.
Step by step, he walked in.
Each footfall sounded like it was pounding on my skull.
I couldn't help but flinch.
"Mr. Donovan?" someone finally reacted, exclaiming, "What are you doing here?"
Lyman's stern face and formal suit were out of place in this setting.
He had an air of authority that silenced the room.
No one dared to breathe too loudly.
Winford stammered, "Mr. Donovan, we're just having a legitimate gathering."
"Mm," Lyman nodded indifferently, his gaze lingering on Winford's face a bit too long.
Winford felt the pressure.
His eyes flickered uneasily.
Finally, Lyman's eyes settled on me, deep and intense.
My brain flashed a warning: I'm screwed.
"I'm here to pick someone up," he said, motioning for me to come over. "Lilia, come here."
I groaned.
I couldn't because he called me in front of everyone.
The students whispered, "What's going on with Lilia and Mr. Donovan?
"Why did he come to pick her up himself?
"Mr. Donovan seems kind of mad.