Alaric sat quietly, holding a glass of water he had just fetched from the kitchen. He had taken a few sips when the front door suddenly slammed open, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps.
Without so much as a knock, a young man barged in. His breathing was heavy, yet his demeanor carried an arrogance as if the house belonged entirely to him.
Startled by the abrupt entrance, Alaric instinctively turned toward the door. But the young man didn't even glance his way.
His eyes were locked on the older man in the wheelchair. With long, urgent strides, he marched over and slammed a thick folder onto the glass table. The impact made Alaric's glass tremble slightly in his hand.
"Dad!" the young man barked, his voice sharp, his eyes burning with pressure. "I'm selling the land. Sign the papers. Now!"
Alaric froze. His gaze shifted to the folder, which had opened just enough to reveal the official first page, a notarized contract for the sale of five hectares of land.
