Pov: Marina
The front doors slammed hard enough to shake the walls. I was already halfway down the stairs before I heard the first crash.
Glass.
Then another. Something heavier this time wood splintering, something expensive breaking without hesitation. My father didn't ease into anger; he exploded.
"Useless…" another crash, "…all of them!"
I stepped into the living room just as a crystal decanter shattered against the far wall. Dark liquid streaked down the marble like blood, dripping in slow, uneven lines. He stood in the middle of the mess, chest rising and falling, his tie loosened, his jacket already thrown somewhere across the room. The control he had built everything on was gone.
"Do you have any idea," he said, not looking at me, "what those fools did in that boardroom?"
Mum moved first. Of course she did. She crossed the space carefully, like approaching something unstable.
"Alistair," Mum said softly, reaching for his arm, "this isn't helping…"
