C12 Divided Allegiances Dontrell’s POV

The door clicked shut behind me as I stepped into the room. My father sat in the centre of the room, expression unreadable, framed by the chandelier light. The room carried an air of suffocation—a mix of cigar smoke and silence so heavy it seemed to choke any sense of comfort. Clayton leaned against the far wall, coiled, ready to strike. Andrew stood near the window