Chapter 15

The sudden knock at the door made everyone turn. A delivery man in his blue uniform stood awkwardly in the doorway, holding a thick envelope.

Dominic raised an eyebrow. "Did someone order food?"

A series of shaking heads answered him. Phones were waved as proof. "Not me."

"Must be a wrong delivery," someone suggested, though their eyes gleamed with curiosity. "Unless someone's trying to impress Mr. Blackwood? I wonder what's inside."

The delivery man scanned the document in his hands. "Divorce papers from Ms. Vivian Hartley, to be delivered directly to Mr. Adrian Blackwood."

The air in the room turned to ice.

The cheerful atmosphere shattered like dropped crystal.

Eyes darted between faces before everyone suddenly found their drinks fascinating.

Only Dominic dared to move.

He took the folder and tossed it toward Adrian with a dramatic flourish. "What the hell did you do, man? She's not playing games," he said, though his usual smirk was absent.

Dominic burned with curiosity about the contents, but even he knew better than to peek.

The embossed law firm logo on the envelope screamed "serious business."

Adrian's face darkened under the dim lighting, shadows clinging to his sharp features like ink.

He ignored the folder entirely.

Instead, he grabbed the nearest whiskey bottle - a rare 1972 Macallan worth a small fortune - and poured a generous amount into his glass.

The amber liquid disappeared in one swift motion.

When he set the bottle down carelessly, half its remaining contents splashed onto the polished floor.

Dominic winced at the waste but wisely kept silent.

No one moved to clean the spill.

The clink of Adrian's empty glass against the table was deafening in the silence.

"All this over one missed call?" His voice was dangerously calm, edged with something darker.

The room held its breath.

Even the usual background noise of the restaurant seemed to fade away.

Serena straightened her posture and gently removed the glass from Adrian's hand. "This is my fault," she whispered, her delicate fingers trembling slightly. "If my heart condition hadn't acted up again..."

"If I wasn't so weak, if those fevers didn't keep coming back, you wouldn't have missed her call."

Tears welled up in her large, expressive eyes, making them shine like liquid silver.

She pressed a hand to her chest, the picture of fragile beauty. "My health has always been a burden to you. Ms. Hartley called multiple times this afternoon. It must have been urgent."

Her voice broke on the last word, the perfect picture of remorse.

The tension in the room thickened.

Adrian's jaw clenched as he stared at the unopened folder like it might burst into flames.

No one dared to speak.

Not even Dominic.

The only sound was the distant clinking of silverware from the restaurant kitchen.

And the slow, deliberate tap of Adrian's fingers against the whiskey glass.

Waiting.

Always waiting.