The sun rose over the Martin mansion with deceptive calm. A gentle breeze swept through the open windows, carrying the scent of flowers from the garden. But inside the house, peace was an illusion — because in David’s heart, a storm had already begun to rage.
He hadn’t slept a wink the previous night. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Lydia’s face — her laughter, her glow, the way she looked at Jacob. It ate him alive. The more he tried to push the image away, the stronger it burned in his mind.
He sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his temples, whispering bitterly to himself.
“He took everything from me. First, Father’s attention. Then, the company. Now, the woman I wanted.”
He looked toward the mirror and stared at his reflection — tired eyes, unshaven jaw, veins p
