Eliott was still fuming after the call, and it showed — his scrambled eggs came out a scorched mess, forcing him to start over from scratch. He tossed the ruined batch in the bin, muttering curses at Kevin under his breath as he cracked fresh eggs into the pan.
The call had dragged the entire memory of last night back to the surface, and just thinking about it made his blood simmer all over again. He didn't want the women in the room to witness him like this, Alex especially, so he kept his back to them and focused on cooking instead.
Leila, Alex, and Fidelia, seated quietly on the couch, could feel the shift in the room the moment the call started. Even from behind, his posture alone telegraphed the change — controlled, but unmistakably cold. Eliott's voice had stayed level throughout, yet even Fidelia felt a chill run through her at the tone of it. None of them needed to ask whether the call had gone well.
