LIORA’S POV
The tension in my father’s study was suffocating, the walls closing in with every cutting word that spilled from his lips. His glare was sharp, piercing through me like I was the sole cause of every misstep in the Hearthstone family.
“Liora,” he began, his voice low but loaded with disdain. “I was happy—proud, even—when I thought you were finally doing something with your life. But no.” He paused, shaking his head in disappointment. “You just had to drag our name through the mud once again.”
“Dad, I don’t know what’s—” I tried to interject, desperate to defend myself.
“You don’t know what’s happening?” he interrupted, his laugh cold and humorless. Leaning forward, he clasped his hands on the desk between us, his knuckles whitening with barely restrained anger.