SMASH.

A loud crash of breaking glass echoed through the top floor of the mansion.

Another set of fine cutlery had just met its tragic fate—shattered against the wall, another victim of Richard Barton's short fuse.

No one flinched. Not the maids, not the guards, not even the butler. This wasn't new. Richard's temper tantrums were practically part of the decor at this point.

Except for Marc.

He knew something was off today. Richard wasn't just angry—he was on edge, pacing like a lion in ...