262. Lorenzo
The air in the study was thick with tension, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on everyone present.
My fist came down hard on the table, the sharp crack echoing through the dimly lit room. The sheer force rattled the glasses, making them tremble as though they, too, feared my wrath. Sweat dripped down my forehead, my body rigid with barely restrained rage. My veins pulsed against my skin, the anger boiling within me, threatening to spill over at any moment.
Across the table, Claudia flinched, her gaze darting away the moment our eyes met. The guilt in her expression was unmistakable, pooling in the creases of her face like an unspoken confession. She blamed herself. I could see it, feel it. But she was wrong. If anyone deserved the blame, it was me. I had let my
