Lucius entered the room, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. The hearty meal he had just shared with his wife, father, and nephew lingered warmly in his mind. However, the events during dinner couldn't be ignored. Shutting the door behind him with a soft click, he leaned back against it.
"I didn't expect you to lecture Roderick right in the middle of the meal," he said, his tone carried a humor. "He's a brat, Layla, and he's going to throw a fit about it later."
Layla turned on her heel gracefully. Her arms crossed over her chest, and her piercing gaze locked onto his. "So?" she shot back. "I'll make him understand, no matter how long it takes. I know it hurts you when he blames you for his father's death, Lucius. But I won't tolerate his disrespect, not under this roof."
Lucius' lips curled into a roguish grin as he took steps toward her. "You know," he murmured, his deep voice laced with mischief, "you look incredibly sexy when you're angry."
