Edgar leaned back in the heavy rosewood chair of his study, his gaze calmly fixed on the concealed door before him. The fireplace crackled with a steady flame, its orange-red glow casting shifting shadows on the oil paintings adorning the walls. A faint scent of burning wood lingered in the air, yet the warmth of the fire failed to dispel the underlying chill in the room.
His voice was unhurried, carrying a detached indifference. “You saw and heard everything yourself. I have no reason to stop Livia from temporarily taking charge. And besides, Livia is my daughter, after all. I’ve warned you already—you are not to harm her.”
Eryx let out a low chuckle, laced with both mockery and disdain. As he approached, his black-gloved fingers idly rubbed against his palm, his tone dark and slow. “No need to worry. I won’t harm her. No matter how capable she is, Livia is not Marcellus. As long as Marcellus isn’t the one leading the expansion project, it won’t be too much of a problem for me.”
Edga
