Azriel's Point Of View
The leather of my executive chair creaked… a subtle protest against my restlessness as I sat there, eyes fixed on the Patek Philippe adorning my wrist. The seconds weren't just ticking; they were taunting me.
I checked it once, twice, three times within a single minute. Gold reflected the harsh office lights, but all I could see was time bleeding away, each moment stretching unbearably.
I blew out a breath, the sound sharp in the quiet office, and stood abruptly. My suit jacket followed the movement, perfectly tailored yet feeling like a straitjacket today. The fabric that usually gave me confidence now seemed to constrict around my shoulders.
"Lucian, I'll be going now," I announced, not bothering to look at my brother as I straightened my cuffs with deliberate precision.
