Page 115 of Us Dark Few

The musicians began to play louder, and the guests switched their attention away from the tortured girl, continuing to laugh and converse as if nothing happened.

She hated all of them. Every single one.

“The planning for the ball came along nicely, Borris. You should be commended for your diligent work,” one of the councilmen said, stuffing an abnormally large piece of chicken into his mouth.

Borris bowed his head in appreciation. “Thank you. We worked hard to reflect the momentous occasion for our beloved city.”

“It’s hard to imagine life before Genesis.” The red-haired lady shivered. “The fact that we used to live underground with those dirty people, the same people who protested the very construction of the great dome. It disgusts me.”

The blonde nodded in agreement and waved her empty glass at Khalani. She stepped forward to fill the glass, clutching the bottle with a vice-like grip.

“If those protesters had helped build the dome, it would’ve at least given their pathetic lives some meaning. They got what was coming to them.”

Khalani’s thoughts turned murderous, and her hands visibly shook as she visualized taking the bottle and smashing it across the girl’s face.

She’d enjoy watching the blood spray across her hands and coat the golden floor, enough to paint a mural out of.

With all the self-discipline she could muster, she refilled the girl’s glass without causing bodily harm. No small feat.

“And what do you think of that assessment, Miss Kanes?” Alexander Huxley held his fingers over his mouth, obscuring his sly smile as he studied her, as if he knew of her violent imaginings andlikedit.

“The opinions of a prisoner don’t have meaning in Genesis, sir.” She placed the wine bottle down with a loud thud.

“How cute of you to think your opinions matter anywhere.” The woman in the yellow dress chortled.

“You can shut up now, Francine.” The Governor’s sharp tone cut through the air, and Francine sank deep into her chair, her mouth hanging open.

Silence descended on the table.

The Governor’s gaze never strayed from hers. “We’re on the edge of our seats, waiting for your answer,” he pressed.

Khalani swallowed. A carefully laid trap was placed before her, clearly visible, but she couldn’t find a way out.

“She’s clearly too stupid to speak,” the redhead scoffed.

Khalani narrowed her eyes and dared to let out a single ounce of emotion. “I think those protesters killed were worth more in their middle fingers than every person on Genesis combined.” The words dripped from her like venom.

Saying it aloud felt better than she’d imagined. She mentally prepared herself for the punishment surely coming her way. Everyone’s jaw dropped to the floor, except for Alexander Huxley.

He smirked, as if she were his toy of amusement.

“How dare you?!” The woman’s face nearly matched the color of her red hair as she turned to the Governor. “I demand that this prisoner be killed for disrespect.”

“Youdemand?” the Governor asked in a dangerously low voice.

Fear overtook her expression. “N-No, forgive me. Not demand. Ionly humbly request. She doesn’t deserve to be alive any longer for her appalling disrespect to you,” she quickly explained. Francine smartly kept her mouth shut, cowering in her chair.

Alexander tapped his finger on the table, looking deep in thought. No one dared move, the discomfort thicker than the ground they stood on.

“Deserving.” The Governor tasted the word. “That’s interesting. Let me ask you, Nora, what have you ever done todeserveliving on the surface?”

Nora drew back at his cool glare and responded in a shaky voice, “My father owns many stores in Apollo. I’m a higher-class citizen.”

Alexander snorted, but no humor lay in his sharp gaze. “Stupid girl. You don’t deserve any respect because your kind never appreciated the land you are on and those who work to preserve it. One more word out of you tonight, and I’ll send your pathetic father that lovely little tongue gift-wrapped.”

Nora’s face paled, eyes widening in terror.

“And you.” Alexander turned to Khalani. “Your quips may amuse me but don’t forget whom you serve, or I’ll give you a lesson as a reminder. And I don’t think you’d be as fond of my teachings as you are of others.” His cryptic, icy-blue eyes narrowed.

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