The other four girls, still somewhat wary of Watts, stiffened in nervous apprehension, their minds racing with uncertainty.
Even Liz, though far more composed, seemed slightly flustered, her lips pressing into a thin line.
"What the fuck, Watts?!" Layla shrieked, her voice high-pitched with a mix of panic and outrage.
Watts merely smiled, clearly enjoying their reactions.
"That," he explained casually, "is the access to my hidden facility."
As his words sank in, the initial panic began to subside, replaced by cautious relief. Layla, however, was having none of it.
Without another word, she spun on her heel and stormed off in search of a mirror.
She had visited Watts' place enough times to know her way around, and within moments, she was in his bathroom, scrutinizing her reflection.
Her fingers trailed over her forehead, searching for any visible mark, any sign that something had changed.
When she found nothing, she exhaled in relief and hurried back to the living room.
