Back at the Ashenlocke Estate...
"So..."
Elder Fredricks slowly lowered the crystal wine glass onto the polished glass table before him.
Clink.
The soft sound echoed through the luxurious office.
He leaned back into his chair comfortably, crossing one leg over the other as a smug smile appeared on his aged face.
"Ezra Ashenlocke."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"The genius inventor of the Phantom Rolls."
A faint chuckle escaped his lips.
The laugh sounded harmless at first, but the mockery hidden underneath was impossible to miss.
"A Lowline actually managed to grow a brain, huh?"
He took the glass cup and swirled the wine inside the glass.
The red liquid moved slowly along the crystal surface.
His gaze remained fixed on Ezra the entire time.
The contempt in his eyes wasn't hidden.
In fact, it wasn't even being concealed.
He wanted Ezra to see it.
Ezra sat calmly across from him.
His hands were locked in restraints, but his posture remained straight.
