Chapter 5

The black Bentley sped down the highway.

The atmosphere inside the car was colder than a blizzard.

Soren sat in the back seat, eyes closed, saying nothing.

But his clenched fists and the throbbing vein at his temple betrayed the rage he was desperately trying to suppress.

Jonathan sat across from Soren, his head hung low, looking like a beaten rooster. The shame and disgrace from the wedding haunted him.

He couldn't even meet his father's eyes. He knew the real storm was still ahead.

*****

The car rolled into Prescott Manor. The gates slid shut behind them, sealing off…