Julian slumped at one end, jacket discarded over the chair's arm, sleeves rolled to his elbows revealing forearms tensed like coiled springs, tie askew in a noose of defeat.
His face bore the ravages of siege. His eyes ringed in shadow from nights glued to hemorrhaging tickers, jaw shadowed by stubble he hadn't bothered to shave.
Opposite him, Vivian held court with rigid poise, her posture unyielding as steel, diamonds at her throat winking like accusatory stars despite the encroaching dusk.
Victor commanded the head in his wheelchair, oxygen cannula whispering rhythmically, the anonymous pocket watch positioned like a talisman before him, a mocking emblem of frozen time.
No servants lingered. The doors sealed against prying ears. The silence between utterances weighed denser than a
