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SLOANE
I sat stiffly in the leather chair across from my brother’s desk. My fingers nervously twisting the strap of my purse. The tension in the room was suffocating, and the sound of my brother’s agitated pacing only made it worse.
My brother, Vincein, strode back and forth like a caged lion, his face a mask of fury. His tailored suit couldn’t hide the rigid set of his shoulders, and the way his hands clenched into fists as he muttered under his breath sent a wave of unease through me.
“Who does he think he is?”
Vincein suddenly roared, his voice echoing through the room. He stopped in front of his desk, slamming both hands down on its surface.
“Does he think he can just take this deal from me? Walk away with everything I’ve worked for?”
I flinched at the sharpness of hi
