The heavy double doors of the penthouse office hadn't even fully clicked shut before Axel tossed his leather jacket onto the pristine white sofa.
Lucas didn't look up from the tablet in his hand. His pen made a sharp, rhythmic scratching sound against the digital glass. "There's a coat rack exactly three inches from your left elbow, Axel."
"Yeah, well, the sofa has more personality," Axel said, swinging his legs over the armrest as he slid into the cushions. The Italian leather creaked beneath him… a sound he knew would irritate his brother. He studied Lucas, eyes narrowing with calculated scrutiny.
He waited. One minute. Two minutes. Lucas didn't even blink, his thumb merely flicking to the next page of the quarterly maritime filings. The silence stretched between them like a familiar game they'd played since childhood… Axel pushing boundaries, Lucas refusing to yield an inch.
