Chapter 21: The Arrogant Heir
The drawing room of the Sterling mansion was draped in heavy velvet, but the chill creeping through the tall, ornamental sash windows could not be held back by fabric alone. Ice crystals spread across the exterior panes like pale spiderwebs, blurring the dark shapes of the bare elm trees lining the driveway. Harlan sat slouched in a wingback chair with a cashmere throw pulled over his knees, watching his breath form thin puffs of vapor in the stagnant air of his own home. The radiators groaned against the rising pressure drops in the municipal gas lines, their iron ribs clicking and clanking without throwing off real heat.
Torin stood at the center of the Persian rug, clutching a remote control with the calm swagger of a general preparing to review a conquer
