Chapter 76 That's Worse, Isn't It?

• The door clicked shut with a soft finality, as Maria headed towards Alistair's office, her heels had barely faded down the corridor before the room seemed to shift. Not physically, of course—but something unspoken hung in the air, dense as fog after a storm. Liam didn’t move at first. Neither did William. Just the two of them, standing there in the hush of a space that had seen more arguments than either would care to admit.
• Eventually, Liam gave in to gravity and dropped into his chair with more force than necessary. The leather gave a tired groan beneath him. Lacing his fingers together, his knuckles seemed pale. Across the room, William leaned slightly against the window ledge, arms folded in that vaguely paternal way he always adopted when things got awkward. Or tense. Or both.
• “So,” William said, as if it were the beginning of a polite dinner conversation. “Alone at last.”