chapter 35
The dining hall was quiet, too quiet for Alex’s liking. Cutlery clinked softly against fine plates. The long table felt endless, polished wood reflecting the chandelier above. Alex sat straight in his chair, shoulders tense, hands resting politely on his lap. He’d never eaten in a place like this before—everything about the mansion screamed power. Gerald took a slow sip of his drink, his sharp eyes finally lifting to Alex. “So,” Gerald said calmly, his voice carrying authority without effort, “tell me, young man… where do you come from?” Alex swallowed. Amara glanced at him, giving him a small, encouraging nod. “I’m from Johannesburg, sir,” Alex began respectfully. “I grew up there with my mother. My father passed away when I was young.” Cillian paused slightly but said nothing, lis
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