The ringtone sliced through the room at the perfect moment, easing the razor-sharp tension that had been crackling like live wires between them. The air, thick with Serena Blackwood's simmering rage, loosened its chokehold just enough for everyone to draw a full breath.
Serena exhaled slowly, her sharp ears locking onto the source. It was coming from Elias Kane—his phone. Again.
She started to rise, but a sudden wave of exhaustion hit her, the kind that follows hours of brutal workouts when every muscle burns. Instead, she stayed seated and lifted a manicured hand to rub her temples. "Liora."
Liora Voss understood instantly. She stepped around the chair and into the hallway, where Elias remained sprawled exactly as he'd been dropped. His body trembled faintly—fear, or maybe the aftershock of pain—while crimson wine pooled around him, soaking into his soft hands. Shards of glass glittered everywhere, scattered like tiny daggers across the marble floor.
