The lounge smelled like expensive leather and old money. I stood by the bar cart with my arms crossed, watching the family line up like game pieces.
Andrew sat by the fireplace, staring into a glass of scotch, completely ignoring Julian. He hadn't looked at his son once since we walked in.
Then Margaret swept through the double doors with a leather folder. Her heels clicked on the hardwood floor with a sharp snap. Derek trailed right behind her, his thumb flying across his phone screen.
"Everyone's here," Margaret announced, dropping the folder onto the glass coffee table. "Good. Let's not drag this out."
Julian pushed off the window frame, his jaw locked tight, hands shoved deep into his pockets.
"Drag what out, Mother?" Julian's voice frayed at the edges. "You've already decided how
