The fire crackled in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the room. Benedict, his shoulders slumped in the plush armchair, took a sip of his brandy, the warmth spreading through his chest. His father, Brandon Rochester, sat opposite him, his gaze fixed on the flames, a contemplative expression on his weathered face.
"You know," Brandon began, his voice a low rumble, "I've been watching you, Benedict. You've been different lately."
Benedict raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Different how, Father?"
Brandon let out a sigh, his eyes meeting his son's. "Different in a way that you've become a cold person. But I have to ask you this question... Are you really in love with that model, Paulina Palacios?" the old man asked his son a question.
Benedict choked on his brandy, sputtering as he s
