Chapter 1: The Shattered Glass
The crystal glass slipped from Clara’s fingers, shattering against the marble floor as the icy water splashed over Arthur’s velvet-clad slippers. The tension in the opulent dining hall snapped like a taut guitar string. John’s eyes remained locked on Nora, his jaw twitching with a volatile mix of fury and disbelief. Arthur, frail and disoriented, blinked slowly against the sudden commotion, his trembling hand reaching out toward empty air.
"You shouldn't have come back here, John," Nora hissed, her voice cutting through the heavy silence like a razor blade. She clutched her black blazer tighter around herself, her posture rigid.
John didn't flinch. His broad shoulders filled the space beneath the grand chandelier, a stark contrast to the refined, sterile elegance of the estate. The tattoos creeping up his neck seemed to pulse with every beat of his racing heart. He took a slow, deliberate step forward, ignoring the guards stationed by the mahogany doors.
"I didn't come for your approval, Nora," John replied, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrated through the room. "I came to find out why a dying man is crying out for ghosts he spent a lifetime burying."
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Clara stepped between them, her white apron stained with water, her eyes flashing with protective defiance. Despite her junior status in this household, her loyalty to Arthur outweighed her fear of the looming biker. This house was built on secrets, and tonight, the foundation was finally cracking wide open.
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