Jake looked from Darius's sunken eyes to his father, who was still standing in the living room with a confused frown. The tension was thick enough to choke the Sunday afternoon air, turning a quiet family weekend into the opening act of a corporate funeral.
"Dad, Uncle Darius is here. Come with us," Jake said, his voice steady, acting as the anchor in the sudden storm. "He wants to talk somewhere private."
Ryan wiped his hands on a dish towel, his expression wary, his eyes darting between his son's expensive watch and his brother's disheveled state. "Where are we going?"
"There's that lounge down the road, The Sapphire Cask," Jake suggested.
