Every fucking domino tonight had been a circus. Blades, screaming, tantrums, glowing bullshit, twins arguing like divorced parents, some ninety-year-old psycho waving shears. Domino forty-nine was just two men in chairs with whiskey. Should've been the quietest tile in the whole chain. It wasn't.
One of them had just murdered his own son ten minutes ago. The other was about to demand the unborn ones.
Quiet dominos always fuck you the hardest.
DOMINO 49: GRAMPS SAYS WHAT NOW
LUNARIS KEEP - RENWICK'S STUDY - 8:10 PM
TIME FROM GUINEVERE LIGHTING THE TABLE - 25 MINUTES
Renwick poured whiskey for two without being asked.
Maddox sat in the chair across the desk like he owned it. Legs crossed. Posture relaxed. The body language of a man who'd already won the game and was now watching the other side figure out they'd been playing with Monopoly money.
Renwick set a glass in front of him and took his own seat.
