By the time Chloe rushed back to the Grayson mansion, the "warfare" had already ceased.
The moment she stepped through the door, an oppressive, heavy atmosphere hit her. The domestic staff stood frozen, looking like they were walking on eggshells. She caught the infectious sense of dread as she entered the living room and saw Xavier sitting on the sofa, his back to her.
Shattered porcelain lay scattered around his feet, a silent testament to a recent explosion of temper. No one had dared to approach him to clean it up.
"Xavier, where's Liam Jr.?" Chloe asked, her voice trembling. The memory of the previous night’s physical encounter still triggered a deep, primal fear of him.
Xavier didn’t look up immediately. His expression was cold, almost detached, yet he radiated a bone-chilling in
