Chapter 430

• Adrian looked like the ground had been pulled out from beneath him. His posture, once so commanding, sagged under the weight of reality. For the first time, I watched him lose his grip on the narrative he'd clung to so desperately.
• He’d always seen Viola as this picture-perfect woman cultured, gracious, a product of pedigree and prestige. She was the daughter of the Silverstone corporate dynasty and widow of Thomas Farrell, a revered executive from a legacy defense conglomerate. On paper, she ticked every box. He probably imagined her serving tea with perfect posture while quoting ethics manuals and gently correcting the staff in poetic metaphors.
• But all it took was one directive from her just one cold, calculated order and a man walked away with a shattered arm.