Chapter 127

• Howard stirred in the dimly lit bedroom, the shadows cast by the early morning sun slicing through the curtains like knives. He tossed off the covers, swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and planted his feet firmly on the plush carpet. Sleep had evaded him all night, his mind a battleground of regret, anger, and a creeping sense of vulnerability.
• He stalked to the bathroom, the marble cold beneath his feet, and splashed water on his face. The chill did little to banish the fatigue etched on his features. He stared at his reflection, the eyes staring back sharp, cold, and unyielding. "Get it together, Howard," he muttered, reaching for a towel.
• Dressed in a crisp white shirt and tailored suit, he exited the bedroom, the hallway stretching out before him like a gauntlet. The maid, Maria, looked up from polishing the banister, surprise flickering across her face.