The doors to the study swung open with a quiet creak, revealing the imposing presence of Dominic Elford seated at his grand mahogany desk. The room was dimly lit, the warm glow of the chandelier above casting soft shadows across the polished wood and the collection of rare books that lined the shelves behind him.
Damien stepped forward, his gaze meeting his father's cold, unreadable one.
Unlike the dining hall, where Dominic exuded calculated indifference, the study felt different. It was his territory, the place where the real decisions were made. Where negotiations were sealed, where power was exercised, where judgment was passed.
And tonight, Damien was the one being summoned.
"Take a seat," Dominic gestured, his voice steady, commanding.
Damien moved toward the chair opposite his father, his posture relaxed, but the moment he sat down, he immediately noticed the discomfort.
The chair was too small.
Or rather—his body was too large for it.
