Chapter 107 We Abandoning Formality Now?

• William Martins stepped off the private elevator, the soft chime echoing like a bell in a cathedral, though the corridor ahead felt more like a tomb. Devlin Tower’s executive floor was always quiet, but today it was... tense. The kind of quiet that makes your ears ring. He adjusted his cufflinks, unnecessarily, then let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His own office waited just down the hallway, warm with books and scotch and a chair that knew the shape of his back. But he didn’t go there.
• Instead, he walked straight toward Liam’s.
• Alistair’s voice still echoed in his mind—frustrated, raw, a little broken. And Liam? Silence. Total, impenetrable, soul-clenching silence. That was how Liam dealt with pain: he built a fortress around it and then locked the gates from the inside. Always had.