Chapter 40
Alaric sat in silence during the long drive back to the estate, staring out the tinted window without truly seeing the passing scenery.
He kept replaying the scene in his mind, over and over, the small run-down room with its peeling walls and dark mold spreading across the ceiling, the flickering light in the hallway, the damp, musty smell that had clung to the air the entire time he stood there. And that boy, that righteous boy, lecturing him about tenant rights and karma and hoarding wealth without thinking of the tenants while his own son stood beside him, silently begging his father to just play along with it for now.
He glanced down at his own coat, the fine wool that was worth more than most people earned in a year, and felt something uncomfortable twist low in his stom
