Night Star [antikvár]

ONE "You'll never beat me. You'll never win this one, Ever. It's impossible. You can't do it. So why waste your time?" I narrow my gaze and peer into her face—taking in her small, pale features, her dark cloud of hair, the absence of light in her hate-filled gaze. My teeth clenched tightly, voice low and measured, I say, "Don't be so sure. You're running a serious risk of overestimating yourself In fact, you are overestimating yourself I'm one hundred percent sure of it." She scoffs. Loudly, derisively, the sound of it echoing throughout the large empty room, bouncing off the plank wood floors to the bare white walls, meant to scare, or at the very least intimidate and throw me off my game. But it won't work. Can't work. I'm too focused for that. All of my energy concentrated down to one single point, until everything else fades away and it's just me, my readied