Colter's POV
"Damn it," I muttered under my breath as I hurried toward Trina, my mind racing with uncertainty about how to handle the situation. "Did you get hurt?"
She gestured dismissively with her free hand while still pressing the other against her nose. "Oh, it's nothing really. Just a small accident. Nothing to worry about."
Blood was streaming through her fingers and staining the front of her dress, making it obvious that her injury was far from minor.
"Let's take care of that wound," I said softly, placing a protective hand on her shoulder. We had barely taken a step when Father emerged from his study, a thick cigar clamped between his teeth, regarding his wife with cold indifference.
The moment Trina spotted him, her entire body went rigid, and she immediately dropped her gaze to the floor.
"Listening at doors, were we?" His tone was ice-cold as he drew deeply on his cigar before deliberately exhaling the smoke in her direction.
