The security men were startled, having never seen the young Mrs. like that before.
What was going on? The sky had darkened, but they could still glimpse her disheveled look as well as the weird smile on her face.
One of them beamed in concern at her. "Ah…m-mrs. Adeline, are you okay? I think you should-"
Adeline walked past him into the compound, dragging the gulf stick with her. She was approaching the parking lot, where every single car the Petrovs owned was parked.
The workers, including the maids inside the mansion, had stopped in their tracks, their eyes falling on her. They could not help but make an exit outside, wondering what was going on.
She'd been missing for a few hours now, and suddenly, she's back? From where? Where had she been?
"Is she okay?" one of the maids asked, confused.
The other shook her head, muttering, "She doesn't look okay to me."
They went silent, just watching Adeline stand before a black Honda. She chortled, staggering from one side to another, her long hair fluttering with the cold night wind. A sigh—a deep pessimistic one, fled her mouth, and she lifted the gulf bat to look at it.
She was going to do something, and they were sure of it. But what?
Raising her head with hostility burning in her brown pupils, Adeline screamed, "Mr. Fyodor!" A crazy laugh rumbled in her throat, and her eyes glanced at every car parked in the parking lot.
"Come out, I know you're in there!" The gulf stick swirled in her grip, her smile all big and toothy. She moved away from the Honda to a Rolls-Royce.
It was the old man's favorite.
Adeline's eyes narrowed into a thin line, monitoring everyone's expression. They were looks of shock, almost as if they believed she would not do what they were guessing.
But this only caused her to chuckle softly, amused. And before their very own eyes, she lifted the stick, smashing the front window of the car, rage flaming in her pupils.
"Oh my god!" The maids slapped their hands over their mouths, their bodies jolting in fright.
What had this woman done?
Their faces grimaced in pity, knowing it was only a few seconds before Mr. Petrov, the master of the house, would come outside.
They'd known that with the way they treated Adeline, it was only a matter of time before she lost her mind. But still…this was absolutely crazy.
Mr. Petrov would kill her! They couldn't even begin imagining what the old man would do to her.
"Why? Why did you kill her? She was everything I had! The only thing I had left!" Adeline's body shuddered in pure anger, her eyes blurred with bubbles of tears. She didn't stop smashing the front window, and she found herself laughing once it shattered into pieces.
"You gave your words, you said you would treat her until she got better. So, why? Why? WHY?! WHY?!" She moved to the side window, smashing them into pieces.
The security men tried to get close to her to stop her from causing any more damage, but Adeline swung the gulf stick in their faces. "Back off, you damn bastards!!"
"M-mrs. Adeline, p-please calm down. The master will not be happy with what you're doing, so please-"
"She's gone insane," another one of the security men said.
"What should we do?" The latter asked, afraid that she might break even more cars if they didn't take action.
"I don't know! Look at her, do you think you can get close? She would break your-"
A presence suddenly made himself known, causing all the workers to immediately look away and step back.
It was the supposed Mr. Fyodor Alexsandrovich Petrov, a middle-aged man who looked around the age of fifty, approximately six feet in height.
His gray eyes rose, his face turning a few shades darker, the second they fell on Adeline and the shattered windows of his car.
He raised his hands to his men, who were about to rush over to Adeline, halting them. They glanced at him, not sure why he had stopped them. Adeline was going to do much worse, and it was evident in her eyes.
Mr. Petrov drew a deep breath, ticked off by the commotion unfolding within his compound.
What a crazy woman!
With heavy strides, he began to storm towards her.
Adeline, who had stopped at the sight of him, trembled, her grip on the stick tightening.
Her lips curled into a wicked, painful smile, and, hatefully, her eyes vehemently narrowed into a thin line. She lifted the stick, moving a step closer to his limousine.
Her hand rose higher, and she positioned the stick next to its front window.
"Finally decided to come out?"