Charles felt Lira's words hit him like a sack of bricks dropped from a rooftop.
'Dammit,' he thought, irritation bubbling up.
Even though his memories of life in the real world were patchy at best, one thing was crystal clear:
Women are trouble.
Sure, Charles liked women, but what he couldn't stand was the drama they could whip up over nothing.
And Lira, probably in charge of running half the arena's operations… couldn't she just let what happened with Rian slide?
Or did she have more free time than she was letting on?
Still, Charles couldn't afford to let her suspect he wasn't Rian. That would make escaping this mess ten times harder.
For Charles, a shaky ally was better than an annoying enemy.
So, steeling himself, he prepped to keep up the act.
"It's me," Charles said, his voice still hoarse from the choking. "Seriously, Lira. It's me."
Lira narrowed her eyes, leaning in closer.
