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37: Renovated chamber

Killian’s POV

I entered my renovated chamber, the weight of recent events hung heavy on my shoulders, the air thick with tension and uncertainty. I wanted it renovated because mine and my brother’s taste is very different. I want nothing of him where I live now.

Gripping the large bottle of whiskey tightly in my hand, I made my way to the ornate wooden desk that commanded the center of the room, the rich scent of aged wood and leather filling my senses.

Before I could even take a seat, the heavy oak door swung open, and my best friend Orlo strode into the room, his expression a mix of concern and determination. Beside him, my second in command Jake followed closely, his posture rigid with anticipation.

"Killian," Orlo began, his voice grave as he took in the sight of me standing there, the bottle of whiskey clenched tightly in my hand. "We need to talk."

I nodded grimly, acknowledging the gravity of the situation as I motioned for them to take a seat. Pouring myself a generous amou
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