Charles Berkshire, head of the noble and ancient house, strides into the drawing room, his gaze immediately landing on his two sons—Felix and Lorenzo—lounging far too casually on the velvet sofas.

“Would either of you like to explain this?” Charles’s voice is cold, as he holds up a letter sealed with the Nott crest.

Felix smirks from behind a glass of brandy, his dark hair tousled in a way that suggests he’s only just crawled out of bed… or someone else’s. “Not really.”

Enzo looks over at his father. “Is this about the fireworks that were launched off the chandelier last week at the Nott’s?”

Charles pinches the bridge of his nose. “You two are an embarrassment to this family’s reputation.”

“Maybe you should get a nanny to look after and punish us when we misbehave,” Felix drawls.

“A French one with a little uniform and everything.” Enzo suggests as he winks at a maid as she scurries past.

Charles can feel his blood boiling. “This family represents dignity and power, yet you two flaunt around like—like—"

"Like the charming, handsome heirs we are?" Enzo interrupts.

"You act like we’re completely irredeemable.” Felix adds. We're just… spirited."

"You are insufferable," Charles hisses. "And your choice of company—those women you parade around with—"

Enzo grins wickedly. "Oh, you mean the ones you call ‘beneath us’? Funny, they seem perfectly above us when they’re—"

"ENOUGH!" Charles bellows. “I will not have you two destroy this family’s reputation with your reckless behavior!” Charles takes a moment to compose himself. “You will both be attending the upcoming gala at the MaIfoy Manor, and you will behave like proper gentlemen. Do I make myself clear?”

Felix and Enzo exchange a glance. “Yes, Father,” Felix replies, evenly.

“And you will both find a respectable, pureblood young lady to escort to the gala. Both of whom I will meet beforehand.” Charles storms out of the room. The moment the door slams shut, Felix turns to Enzo with a devilish grin.