Liam Livingston stood amidst the oppressive opulence of the main hall, the air thick with the scent of old mahogany and silent judgment. He cast a casual, almost bored glance across the assembled members of the Montgomery Clan. His eyes swept over their designer suits and rigid postures before he let out a soft, deliberate scoff. It was a sound low in volume but deafening in its implication—a noise that stripped away their pretenses of superiority and left them n***d in their embarrassment.
The mockery embedded in that single exhale was undisguised, sharp as a razor. It landed physically on the room, causing the faces of every Montgomery present to darken with a mixture of indignation and suppressed rage. Dame Beatrice, seated at the head of the room like a withered queen on a crumbling t
