The private room had grown noticeably quieter.
As time ticked by, the weight in the air only intensified. Caspian, Joseph, and Sierra could all feel it—that suffocating pressure, like an invisible hand wrapped around their throats, making it hard to even breathe.
Caspian, especially, looked rattled. People said these young heirs were unpredictable—moody, arrogant, dangerous.
And no one could tell what was going on with Veil.
If he exploded now, it wouldn't just be awkward—it would be a catastrophe.
Barely daring to breathe, Caspian wiped the sweat from his brow. Every fiber in his body screamed to run. He instinctively glanced at Joseph, treating him like a human shield.
If a gun's about to go off, best let the shield take the first hit.
Joseph could tell something was off too, but he had no choice. Swallowing hard, he asked quietly,
"Lancaster, sir? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine."
