Third person:
At the Field Manor.
Orlando stood at his bedroom's floor-to-ceiling window, his loosely belted robe revealing his muscled chest.
His brows were furrowed, his gaze out the window deep and slightly unfocused, his hair still damp from a recent shower.
The room was dimly lit, with the only light source coming from a floor lamp by the bedside.
The lamp's glow cast his shadow long and stark against the floor, emphasizing his solitary stance.
Ten minutes ago, Brian's assistant had called to inform him that Emilia was drinking at a bar with a man.
'Why did she insist on creating chaos at every turn? And Brian — what game was he playing by reporting this? Had his business grown so dull that he needed to meddle in others' affairs?'
Originally, he didn't want to bother with this
