In the dining room inside Howard’s apartment, Roland sat across from Zoey who was sitting beside Iris. Howard took the head seat, and before them on the table were well-garnished meals, fruits, vegetables, meats, and beverages.
“Is there anything else you’d like, sir,” one of the maids who’d set up the table said to Howard.
“That will be all, you may leave,” Howard answered.
“Okay, sir,” the lady said, and turned for the exit.
The atmosphere fell silent as soon as the woman was out. Roland lifted his gaze to Zoey who was staring at her father. He sensed the uneven pulse of her heartbeat, not from fear, but from anger.
What exactly happened between them? Was she angry with him? Or was this something else entirely?
“Welcome everyone,” Howard’s voice cut through Roland’s sprawling thoug
