Braelyn's POV
The maids scattered from my path as if they were escaping a storm. "Viktor!!" I barked out again rushing down the stairs.
"Yes, ma'am," a middle-aged man with some wrinkles by the side of his eyes answered.
"What happened to the bedroom? Who authorized a complete redecoration?" I asked him. My chest was heaving, barely able to restrain my anger.
I had chosen every decoration myself to make it remind me of the home I grew up in. Raphael approved my taste, so how did things change without my authorization?!
Viktor swallowed hesitant to answer. I stepped forward squaring his jaw.
"What's holding you from answering a simple question?" I snapped at him. The butler politely nodded.
"It was done with Mr Volkov's approval." He answered. I scoffed, that wasn't the answer.
"Whose idea was it?" I asked him. A part of me already knew the answer I just needed him to say it out loud.
