38| A Futile Attempt at Escaping

Senna was standing in a dark room, groans spilling from the corner when he got a text message.

He took off his gloves and tossed them to the side before slipping his phone out of his pocket. It was from his driver, and he wondered what was wrong this time.

Driver: Sir, she's gone.

Senna turned to Placido. "You know what to do with him, right? I must leave now."

"Senna!" Smith cried as he struggled to be free from his seat. "Don't fucking do this to me. Please! Can we at least talk?"

Senna paused, his hand on the doorknob before he turned to look at Smith. "There's nothing to talk about."

With those words, he exited the room and immediately dialed his driver's number.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Sh-she said she wanted to ease herself as she had been holding it in for a long time. I swear, I didn't want to stop, but she looked really pressed, so I just let her—"

"Before you were employed, didn't you tell me you were good at reading people? Why weren't you able to apply it wh