Ethan stumbled through the front door, the weight of his own panic dragging him down. The house felt too quiet, too empty, and every shadow seemed to whisper the chaos of the last few days. He moved slowly, almost mechanically, toward his room, each step heavier than the last.
He sank onto his bed and stared at the ceiling, the memories pressing in. His life had been perfect—or at least he had thought it was. Everything was smooth, everyone bowed, everything was under his control. But now? Everything had flipped. Money, power, respect—gone. And there was only one name he could blame: Xavier.
Ethan's anger built, coiling in his chest. First it was a low growl, then it erupted. He yelled, threw his pillow across the room, kicked a chair, anything in reach. "Xavier! I'll kill him! He can't get away with this!"
