The sun had already begun its slow descent, casting an amber glow through the grand windows of the Alcove mansion.
The living room buzzed with an easy, familiar rhythm—the sound of soft laughter, casual banter, and the clinking of glasses.
The air in the room seemed to thicken as the seconds ticked by.
Marcus, Julian, Dante, and Theo were lounging around the expansive living room, each of them in their usual spots.
Marcus was seated in the armchair, his eyes fixed on the screen of his tablet, likely reviewing business reports, his expression one of quiet intensity.
Julian, ever the artist, was sprawled across the couch with his guitar, absentmindedly strumming while humming some half-formed melody.
Dante, the tech genius, was hunched over his phone, tapping away with quick, precise movements.
Theo sat at the edge of the room, his back straight, looking more like a doctor than a brother as he absently fiddled with a medical journal.
