Chapter 11
Marcus's Cold Gaze
The facade of Marcus’s gentle demeanor cracks during a tense family dinner. An argument erupts over a minor infraction, and Marcus’s usual placid expression contorts into a mask of chilling cruelty. His eyes, usually warm, turn icy and hard as he delivers a veiled threat to Jack, his voice dangerously low. In that moment, Jack sees not a loving godfather, but a man capable of immense darkness. The realization hits him with the force of a physical blow: Marcus is not the protector he appeared to be, but something far more sinister.
The polished mahogany table gleamed under the soft glow of the dining room chandelier, reflecting the strained smiles of its occupants. Liam, his gaze fixed on the intricate patterns of the tablecloth, felt the usual knot of anxiety tighten in his stomach. Beside him, Maya picked at her food, her movements hesitant, as if each bite was a battle. Across from them sat Marcus and Elena, their godparents, their faces masks of practiced warmth, yet Liam sensed a subtle shift in the air tonight, a tension that had been building since they’d arrived.
“More roast, Liam?” Elena’s voice, usually a soothing balm, felt a little too bright, a little too insistent. She offered him a serving fork, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.
“No, thank you, Elena,” Liam murmured, pushing his plate away slightly. He’d barely touched the food. The aroma, which should have been comforting, felt cloying, heavy with an unfamiliar spice that tickled the back of his throat.
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