The room held its breath.
No one moved, yet everything felt like it was already in motion. The air itself seemed tight, stretched to its limit, as if the smallest sound would snap it completely.
Dorian stood at the center of it all, his arm locked around Cynthia and Jackson, the gun steady in his hand. His expression had changed again, no longer calm, no longer controlled. There was something deeper now, something darker that made it difficult to read what he would do next.
In front of him, the officers held their positions, their weapons raised, their fingers dangerously close to the trigger. Every eye was fixed on him, every muscle tense, waiting for the moment things would fall apart.
And then there was Sebastian.
He stood just a few steps inside the doorway, his presence quiet but overwhelming. His gaze moved once across the room, taking in every detail—the fear in Cynthia's eyes, the anger on Jackson's face, the tight formation of the officers, and finally, Dorian.
