Lily led Sofia through a series of winding corridors, her chatter filling the silence. Finally, they reached a grand, mahogany door. Lily knocked, then pushed it open.
Inside, a man sat at a large, antique desk, his back to them. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a silhouette that exuded power and authority. His dark hair was neatly combed, and his broad shoulders hinted at a physically fit man.
"Father, this is Sofia," Lily announced, her voice echoing in the quiet room.
The man slowly turned around, and Sofia's breath caught in her throat. His eyes, a deep, stormy gray, held a world of secrets and sorrow. His features were sharp and angular, his expression distant and aloof.
"You're late," he said, his voice low and raspy.
Sofia's heart pounded. "I apologize, Mr. Blackwood," she stammered. "There was a bit of traffic."
He nodded, his gaze fixed on her. "Very well. Let's get this over with."