CHAPTER HUNDRED AND THIRTY-SIX

RICHARD’S POV

The air crackled with the usual pre-dinner tension. William, my perpetually tanned and smug stepbrother, nudged Jonathan, the lankier one, sending a snort of laughter their way. They were at it again, some inside joke undoubtedly at my expense. My stomach clenched, a familiar feeling. Here we were, about to be subjected to another night of their "subtle" jabs and thinly veiled mockery.

Just as the tension threatened to solidify into an uncomfortable ice sculpture, Mr. Billingsworth, our ever-so-serious butler, practically burst through the dining room doors. "Sir," he gasped, his voice uncharacteristically high-pitched, "a, uh, very distinguished gentleman has arrived with a rather...extensive entourage.”

My father, usually stoic even during a hurricane, shot up in his chair, a flicker of surprise flitting across his usually unreadable face.

"A gentleman?" Dad questioned, setting down his glass with a clink. "At this hour? Didn't say who it was?"

Billingsworth shook h