The Truth Begins to Surface
When he returned home.
The atmosphere inside the Ashbourne residence was unusually tense.
The spacious living room, normally filled with quiet elegance, now felt heavy enough to suffocate anyone who stepped inside. The crystal chandelier bathed the room in warm light, yet it did nothing to ease the cold expressions on everyone's faces.
Dario Ashbourne sat on the sofa, his complexion pale from illness but his posture still carried the authority of the head of the Ashbourne family.
Standing nearby was the severely injured White Ghost.
His clothes were torn in several places, dried blood stained his sleeves, and his breathing remained uneven. Despite receiving emergency treatment, the injuries he had suffered during the ambush were still obvious.
With lowered head, he was reporting everything that had happened to Steffan.
Thinking about his brother falling into the enemy's hands.
He was anxious and helpless.
His fists tightened unconsciously.
