The moment the words left Damien's mouth, the tension in the classroom shifted.
Like the air had been sucked out.
Like something sharp had just sliced through the atmosphere, leaving nothing but a suffocating silence.
Leon's breath hitched.
His blood boiled.
His fingers, which had been idly tapping against the desk just moments ago, suddenly stopped—freezing mid-motion.
His golden-brown eyes widened, then darkened, rage flaring through his veins so fast, so violently, it nearly burned his skin.
"Your father must be enjoying his vacation."
Damien's voice had been casual. Lazy. Drawled out with that same sharp-edged amusement, his piercing blue eyes gleaming with something both mocking and calculated.
He knew.
This wasn't a simple taunt.
This wasn't just another one of Damien's cruel, cutting jabs meant to provoke a reaction.
This was intentional.
Damien Elford wasn't just poking at Leon's pride.
He was digging into his open wound.
The wound he had been trying to ignore.
