Narrator’s Point of View

The night was silent—too silent for a city still recovering from the chaos.

Inside Antonio’s mansion, the storm hadn’t passed—it had only shifted indoors.

Rico stood at the far end of the study, fists clenched, eyes burning. Antonio poured himself another drink, pretending not to notice the tremor in his son’s voice.

“You did it,” Rico said finally. “Didn’t you?”

Antonio didn’t turn around. “Be careful how you speak to me.”

“I’m ...