"What?!" Van's eyes snapped open, his voice sharp with genuine shock. His 'informant,' a housekeeper he'd seduced with practiced charm, hovered nervously at the edge of the pool, her gaze lingering on his almost naked body as he floated in the shimmering water.
She had just delivered news that an intense fight had erupted between the Matriarch and Dawin. Dawin, she reported, looked like he'd been hit, and items in their mother's study were destroyed. She believed Dawin had done that in retaliation.
Van pushed himself out of the pool, water sluicing from his muscled form. He couldn't believe it. There was no way Dawin and their mother would ever fight. Never would she hit him. Dawin was her precious, perfect kid, the golden heir she doted on, the one she would never so much as raise her voice to, let alone strike.
"What happened?" he demanded aloud, his mind already racing, trying to piece together the unbelievable scenario.
