Nikolai stumbled through the grand foyer of the mansion, his footsteps unsteady as he tried to regain his composure after a night of indulgence. He had just shut the door behind him when he heard the unmistakable click of polished shoes against marble.

Viktor Ivanovich Rostov stood at the top of the grand staircase, his posture rigid and his gaze unyielding. His pale blue eyes locked onto Nikolai with a mixture of cold fury and disappointment.

“Back already?” Viktor’s voice was calm, almost too calm, as he descended the stairs with deliberate, measured steps. “And from the looks of it, not alone.”

Nikolai’s heart raced. He froze mid-step, his expression shifting from casual arrogance to sheer panic. His eyes darted to the floor, unable to meet his father’s unrelenting stare.

“I—” Nikolai’s voice cracked. “I didn’t mean to—”

Viktor interrupted him with a steely glance. “No need for excuses. I know exactly what you’ve been up to. Engaged to be married and out carousing with someone else? How many times must you be reminded of your responsibilities?”

Nikolai shifted uncomfortably, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “It’s not what you think—”

“Don’t waste your breath,” Viktor cut him off, his tone cold and final. “This isn’t a matter of misunderstanding. It’s a matter of principle. You’ve disregarded your commitment and, in doing so, disrespected both your fiancée and our family.”

Nikolai flinched, the weight of Viktor’s words hitting him like a physical blow. His father’s disappointment was palpable, more crushing than any physical punishment. Viktor’s gaze was unwavering, his demeanor unyielding.

“I expected more from you, Nikolai,” Viktor continued, his voice dropping to a whisper of anger. “This behavior reflects poorly on all of us. You have much to answer for, and I intend to see that you do.”

Nikolai struggled to form a response, but the gravity of the situation rendered him speechless. The silence that followed was thick with tension, Viktor’s stern presence overshadowing any semblance.