The Breaking Point

CLANG!

The fork hit the porcelain plate with a sharp clang that echoed through the dining room. Maddox's knuckles went white as he gripped the edge of the mahogany table.

"So that's it?" His voice cut through the morning air like a blade. "I'm supposed to grovel? Hand over my spine so your aunt can hang it on her goddamn trophy wall?"

Alina's coffee cup trembled in her hands. Steam rose between them like a barrier. "This isn't about your reputation—"

"It's always about pride with you people." Maddox's chair scraped against the marble floor as he pushed back from the table. "Titles. Appearances. Who kneels to who in the goddamn society pages."

The sunlight streaming through the tall windows seemed to dim as tension thickened the air. Birds still sang in the perfectly manicured garden outside, but their cheerful melody felt out of place in the war zone the breakfast room had become.