Ethan's voice cut cleanly through the room, sharp enough to halt every whisper and every shifting glance. All eyes turned toward him again. Featherfall Angel looked at him, her brows drawing together in open irritation. This man showed absolutely no respect, and worse, he did not seem the least bit intimidated by her authority.
"What do you want?" she asked, her tone already edged with impatience.
Ethan let out a quiet breath. "Me? When you were 'handling' this just now, did you bother asking me anything? Maybe I walked into the wrong room, sure. But they were the ones who started running their mouths first, throwing accusations everywhere. Did you ask what happened? No. You were ready to leave me hanging. So tell me, is that really how you handle things here?"
The faint smile he had worn earlier disappeared completely. His gaze locked onto her, steady and unyielding, each question landing like a hammer strike.
