Chapter 75 And The Kicker?

• Alistair exited Liam’s office with a little too much force—he hadn’t meant to slam the door, but well, the thing had a mind of its own sometimes. The thud echoed down the corridor like a judge’s gavel. Final. Loud. Slightly embarrassing. He ran his fingers through his hair—messy already from hours of frustrated pacing and coffee-fueled overthinking, and felt the simmering coil of frustration tighten further in his chest. That hadn’t gone how he’d planned. Not even remotely.
• Why the hell had he snapped?
• He was supposed to be the level-headed one. The problem-solver. The guy you wanted nearby when tensions rose and voices got sharp. He played mediator like a maestro with a baton, and now here he was—storming out like some moody teenager denied car keys. It was... childish. Maybe even pathetic, if he were being honest. He couldn’t help but scoff at himself.