Rowan's icy glare could have frozen hell over. His eyes bore into his son, Oliver, with a ferocity that seemed lethal.
Oliver sat sprawled on the couch, returning the stare with a steely resolve that didn't waver. They sat in opposition, the tension palpable between them, only a coffee table serving as a no man's land.
Oliver, with a look colder than Rowan's, seemed almost heartless by comparison.
Rowan let out a scoff, his amusement thinly veiled. "Oliver, your mother's been gone for ages, and you're still holding that grudge against me?"
"Don't you dare speak about my mother! You're not worthy of saying her name!" Oliver shot back, his voice crackling with intensity.
Rowan's smirk grew wider, his plan seemingly coming together. "Your mother always acted so high and mighty, never listening to my advice. She got what she deserved!"
Rising to his feet, Oliver's voice thundered, "Don't you dare speak of my mother! Shut your mouth!"
"Oliver, you're telling me to shut up? Who do you think you are?" Rowan's tone was laced with arrogance, a smirk playing at his lips as he stepped closer, looking down at Oliver with disdain. "If you're so capable, kill me then. Isn't that what you want? Go on, take your shot," he taunted, pointing to his temple with a wicked laugh.
Memories of his mother's death flooded Oliver's mind. His emotions spiraled out of control, his eyes reddening with rage as he reached out and grabbed Rowan by the throat.
Gripping his father's neck with a vengeance, Oliver poured all his strength into his grasp. Yet, as his breath began to falter, Rowan's twisted smile remained as if he was a madman welcoming his demise.
When Rowan was gasping for air, Oliver flung him to the ground. Rubbing his bruised throat, Rowan rasped, "What's the matter? Planning to let me go? Are you not going to avenge your dear mother?"
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Miss Josefina: Nobody's Princess