Then the aunt who'd already poked into his love life leaned forward with a glint in her eye. "Alright, Rex. You say morality is a compass, not a contract. But what about loyalty? If you had to choose between your ambition and your family—not blood, but the people who trust you...which comes first?"
Rex didn't answer immediately. His past life flashed again: allies who abandoned him, colleagues who sold him out for a promotion. He remembered standing alone, the only one left to pick up the wreckage.
He spoke slowly, but firmly. "If you're talking about loyalty that runs both ways, then family. Always. But if you mean blind loyalty, the kind that demands obedience without giving support? That's just another leash. And I don't wear leashes."
Henry Sterling chuckled softly at that, a sound that carried weight even when quiet. "Not bad. Most men your age would've said 'ambition,' trying to impress us with fire. You say family, but on your terms. That's… interesting."
