Welcome To Hell, Dear Wife-Chapter 28: An Unwelcome Party?

Chapter 28: An Unwelcome Party?
Mira felt like her feet were glued to the marble floor as she stared down at the sea of hostile faces staring at her below.
There had to be at least thirty people gathered down there, way too many people for a normal household, unless this was some sort of hotel.
Was there another party?
And their number wasn’t even the shocking part. They indeed continued to stare at her with such intensity that should be meant for criminals or reality TV villains.
The way their jaws were clenched so much, the way their eyes were narrowed to slits, and the way some of them even had their arms crossed was all like they were personally offended by her very existence was enough to prove it.
They’re literally looking at me like I’ve personally murdered someone dear to them? Or like I owe every single one of them my soul.
She had the great urge to run back and just pretend that she didn’t notice them all, but she was not going to let them affect her. She wasn’t going to let them sway why she was here.
So she forced her feet to move as she descended down the stairs slowly, each step feeling like she was walking to her room.
The crowd didn’t bother pointing at her. They just continued watching her while whispering to one another, louder such that she could hear fragments of them now.
"
Is that really her? The bitch who accused Alpha back then?"
She looked around nervously at that.
Alpha
?
What. Who’s that?
"
Her father... dead... so her... revenge is a dish best served cold."
None of the whispers were connecting properly, as they only made her even more confused than she had already been when she woke up, and it was frustrating.
What the hell is going on? Don’t they just hate Lorena because of her scandals as usual?
She was so focused on trying to hear more that she didn’t notice a woman approaching from her left until it was too late.
She collided into Mira in a brutal manner as the glass of tea in her hands went flying.
The cold liquid hit Mira’s pajamas as the hot thing soaked through the fabric and started dripping onto the marble floor.
She jerked backward instinctively as her hands flew up, as if hoping to dust the liquid off somehow.
She looked up to see a beautiful woman in her late or early fifties looking down at her with the kind of apologetic expression that was only as genuine as a
politician’s campaign promises.
"Oh my," the woman said, "how clumsy of me. Are you okay?"
Clumsy, my ass!
Mira was not daft enough to think that she had accidentally done all of this. Even the slight upturn at the corner of her mouth and the way her eyes held absolutely no mercy was proof of that.
As a matter of fact, this gave her a feeling of déjà vu because someone at the party from yesterday had tried the exact same thing.
Were they so daft to
not be able to
think of something more original than this?
She decided that she’d had enough. She should not have come down the stairs at all, and so she turned to make a beeline for the stairs, only to be blocked by something.
That same woman.
Mira fought the urge to roll her eyes.
"Uhm, I need to go change—" she started, attempting to bypass the woman, but she stepped in front of her again.
"Oh nonsense," she said as her hand landed on Mira’s arm with a gentle yet firm pressure. "A little tea doesn’t need you changing? Come sit, we’re all about to have breakfast."
Before she could even protest or anything, she was already being guided, gently yet insistently, deeper into the house, and not upstairs like she’d wanted, but towards a set of massive double doors that she’d not seen before.
A lot of the others followed behind, like they caught a witch and were leading her to the burning stone.
Mira was starting to think so herself, so she had to speak up before they indeed set her on fire. "Where are we going?"
"The dining hall, dear," the woman replied sweetly again. "Where else?"
The doors swung open, and Mira’s jaw almost dropped.
This wasn’t just a dining room because it was enormous, bigger than most restaurants she’d ever been to. Massive tables stretched across the place like something pulled out of a medieval feast.
Each table had at least six to eight chairs surrounding it. The hall was in fact enough to take sixty people if not more.
If I thought the Sanders’ dining was too much, this was definitely way over the top,
she thought to herself as she took in the sight of it all.
But she was snapped back to the present by the palm. "Right here will do," she said as she steered Mira toward a chair that was around the table at the center of the room.
As if wanting her to be where everybody could see her easily, like she was on display.
They all filed in behind them as usual, like they’d been waiting for this moment. They took different positions around the room where they could watch her every move.
Some leaned against walls, others stood on their own, but all of them had their eyes locked on her.
The tension was too much for her to bear, so she had to break it, hoping that her light joking tone would do it.
"Uhm... is there a party or something?"
The man seated to her right, the one with the grey mustache, glared at her. "She thinks she’s in a party. She thinks this is funny?"
They kept talking like they weren’t talking to her,
yet about her.
And Mira did not need to be told again that she was not welcome to whatever they were doing here, the party or whatever. Yet she could not understand why they didn’t just let her go back upstairs if she was being an intruder.
Just when she was about to stand up and walk away either way she could, the room fell silent immediately as whispers died mid-word and every head finally turned toward the entrance of the room.
Mira could not see anything yet, until she heard the familiar voice boom through the silent room. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?"