The old man's boot connected with the drying racks, herbs scattering like confetti across the yard. "But you? Living comfortably in this fancy house with your precious plants?" His voice dripped with contempt. "Everyone knows what these are really for. Cross the Cross family one more time, and you'll wish you hadn't."
Dried medicinal herbs littered the ground like battlefield casualties, turning the once-tidy yard into chaos.
Vera dropped to her knees, gathering the scattered herbs with trembling fingers, though her voice remained rock-steady. "Those are fabrications," she stated flatly, not bothering to meet his gaze. "Get off my property now, or the police will hear about this trespassing."
The old man crushed more herbs beneath his heel, grinding them to powder. "Allow me proper introductions," he said with icy precision. "Miguel's the name. Head butler to the Cross family.
