Two shadows lingered in the dimly lit study, the heavy curtains drawn to keep the night at bay. The crackle of the fireplace cast a sinister glow across the room, revealing two men dressed sharply in black suits. One leaned back in his chair with an air of arrogance, the other, older but just as cold, studied him with a knowing smirk.
David Armani's laughter pierced the silence, sharp and mocking.
"Can you believe it, Father? That little dove sneaks out of her gilded cage every night just to bury herself in books. Books! She thinks stolen pages will give her wings."
Mr. Armani let out a low chuckle, swirling the brandy in his glass.
"What's the use of knowledge, son? A woman can read the whole library, but in the end, she's still just a fragile little fool. And fragile things…" he paused, savoring the word, "are meant to be broken."
David's smile sharpened into something cruel, his voice dripping with malice.
"Broken, yes… but not by her mighty, self-righteous husband. No, Father. That honor belongs to me. Linda may be sweet, innocent, even admirable in her rebellion—but that only makes her the perfect piece in our game. She's Daniel's pride, his softest spot. And when I pull the strings, she'll dance exactly how I want."
Mr. Armani leaned forward, his eyes gleaming.
"A rebellious puppet, that's what she is. And Daniel? That arrogant boy will never see it coming. He'll watch his empire unravel, one thread at a time, starting with the woman he thought he could tame."
The two men exchanged a look, their laughter echoing through the room like the crack of a whip—dark, triumphant, and merciless.