The study was quiet again.
It was too quiet, but with the way things turned out, it would have been weird if the place had not been quiet.
Now only two sons remained standing, both keeping their heads slightly lowered, not daring to meet their father's eyes unless spoken to.
Mr. Grayson leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him.
He didn't speak right away. Instead, he was thinking about how he had not taught anything to his two oldest sons.
He just stared at the closed door where Thomas had walked out minutes ago.
Then, slowly, he shifted his gaze to the third son.
"Darren."
The young man looked up quickly. His expression was calm, a little tired, but not shaken like the others.
He was the most composed of the four brothers. Quiet. Strategic. The kind who never raised his voice, never panicked. The kind people thought they were always five steps ahead.
Which was exactly why Mr. Grayson had given him the hardest target.
