George's POV
The mansion felt colder than usual the moment I stepped inside. Maybe it was in my head, or maybe the house simply absorbed the kind of tension I was walking in with. Either way, I wasn’t backing down. Not today. Not again. My father, or whatever I should even call him....would have to fight harder than this if he wanted to push me back into silence.
I sank into the sofa, my jaw tight, my fingers wrapped around the photo of Samantha. I stared at it for a moment before slipping it into my pocket. A reminder. A reason. Proof that something didn’t add up.
I waited. Minutes crawled by. Nothing.
I stood, waved a guard over.
“Where’s my father?”
The man hesitated, eyes darting around like the walls were listening.
“He just finished meeting with his friends. He should be here
