The Darlington residence's east wing was quiet, far from the laughter and the clinking of glasses that filled the banquet halls. Behind thick mahogany doors, soundproofed walls swallowed every echo of the celebration outside.
Inside the private lounge, the lights were softer — warm gold bouncing off the marble fireplace, the faint scent of oak and expensive whiskey lingering in the air. It was a room meant for secrets, deals, and unspoken truths.
Robert led the way in, gesturing toward one of the leather couches. "Take a seat, Hutton. Whatever storm you're dragging with you this time, at least let's face it sitting down."
Hutton nodded, lowering himself onto the couch. The light above cast soft shadows across his face, accentuating the quiet intensity in his eyes. Rebecca sat opposite him, legs crossed, her silver bracelet glinting faintly under the chandelier.
