"Good, everyone is here," Alvina said smugly, her eyes scanning the room like a predator assessing her prey.
Her silver hair gleamed under the chandelier's light, and her posture screamed authority. The kind of woman who didn't need to raise her voice to make everyone listen.
But despite her composed demeanor, there was something in the air today. Something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
I hated this feeling.
"Not everyone, Alvina," Marcus cut in, his voice as cold as steel. "Mother and Father aren't here."
The tension in the room spiked immediately. It was clear she hadn't expected Marcus to cut in like that, but he did so with a calmness that only made her discomfort more obvious.
My oldest brother had a way of making the air feel heavier—like you could almost feel the pressure on your chest when he wasn't satisfied with something.
