The Threat

“Why did you slap her?” Marcus’s voice was sharp, cutting through the tense silence in the Langford dining room. His fork clattered against his plate as he shoved it aside.

Ares sat across from him, stone faced, his jaw tight. He hadn’t touched his food. He hadn’t said a word since the slap. The air was thick, suffocating.

“She deserved worse,” Ares finally muttered, his voice low, heavy with restrained rage.

“Worse?” Marcus scoffed, leaning back in his chair. ...