As the group stepped through the grand wooden doors, they were met with warmth, not just from the golden lighting and wooden floors, but from the people waiting inside.
Arthur Carter stood first, his tall figure still noble even in old age. His white hair was combed neatly back, and though his face had softened with time, his sharp eyes held intelligence, guilt, and something else, a searching hope.
But before anyone could speak, another figure came into view.
Alexander.
Gone was the crisp suit and cold CEO aura. Now, he stood leaning casually near the entrance of the drawing room, wearing a tight-fitting black T-shirt that hugged every curve of his sculpted body, and loose grey sweatpants. His hair was messier than usual like he'd just run his hand through it a moment ago and yet, somehow, that made him look even more dangerously relaxed.
And he knew it.
