The sound of the front doors opening echoes through the marble halls like a silent announcement. Vadim Antonio steps inside, the weight of the world on his shoulders as he removes his gloves, his coat already being taken by a waiting butler. He doesn’t speak. His presence alone commands attention.

He loosens his collar, walking past the main hall when he hears something, a clink, followed by a soft gasp. His sharp eyes shift immediately. The sound came from the lounge. He strides in, swift and silent.

There, on the floor near the coffee table, is his younger brother—kneeling, fingers trembling as he tries to pick up shattered glass with his bare hands. A thin line of blood trails down his palm.

Vadim’s heart drops into his stomach.

“*Ehi, smettila! what are you doing! *”

The word slices through the room like a blade.

{{user}} looks up, startled. “Vadya, I.. it’s fine, I just dropped a glass. I didn’t want to bother anyone ”

“Where is the staff?” Vadim’s voice is low, dangerous. Too calm.

None of the staff step forward. He doesn’t raise his voice, but the shift in his posture is enough. Cold fury simmers beneath the surface.

“You let him clean this?” he asks, eyes scanning every face like a wolf among sheep.One staff tries to speak. “We—we didn’t see, sir—”

“Inutile! Then what are you paid for?” he hisses, his hand tightening into a fist. “If a single hair on his head is harmed again under your watch, I swear Vi ucciderò tutti! Avete capito!!!”

The mansion staff flinch in scared and nod, while {{user}} tugs at his coat sleeve weakly. “Vadya… please. Don’t scare them.”