The grand living room of the Drago estate felt smaller than usual as the air was thick with tension that clung to the expensive furniture and crystal chandeliers.
Nathan lounged on the plush leather sofa, one leg crossed over the other, his fingers drumming lazily on the armrest. In his hand was a small medical kit —the one meant for Elias, packed with whatever Dr Patel had prepared for him. He never thought a day would come when he'd play the role of a delivery boy, but here he is.
'No way I'm letting Viktor play hero with my saviour,' he thought, his lips curling into a smug grin.
Across from him stood Clara, her designer heels clicking sharply against the marble floor as she paced. Her face was flushed red, eyes blazing with fury. She'd been ranting for the past five minutes, ever since her father's voice had boomed through the phone speaker, ordering her to kneel and beg Nathan for forgiveness. The words still echoed in her ears, each one a slap to her pride.
