Dracon shook his head in panic, knowing all too well why he was here, yet hoping against hope that his actions could somehow be justified.
Arthur advanced on him, grabbing Dracon by the shirt and glaring with such fury that it seemed to emanate the dominance of someone born to lead. "It was you! You're the one who gave Alyssa that voice recorder!"
Caught in Arthur's iron grip, Dracon's face was a mask of terror. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he stammered, "Bro, please... I just... I lost my head for a moment. Please, let me off this time..."
But excuses would do Dracon no good; not when Arthur was this enraged.
He shouldn't have voluntarily entered the Linklater family's surveillance room.
Had he heeded the warnings, he wouldn't have been caught so swiftly—like a moth drawn to flame, he had sealed his own fate.
Sasha approached, her presence commanding. "Besides the voice recorder, what else did you give Alyssa?"
Dracon's eyes darted away, caught off guard by her insight. But before he could react further, Arthur's fist connected with his face, numbing his cheek and drawing blood from the corner of his mouth. His legs trembled beneath him.
Arthur's voice was a low growl, barely containing his rage. "My wife asked you a question. Answer her!"
Wincing in pain, Dracon managed to shake his head, his voice trembling. "I... I also gave her a video camera..."
His eyes pleaded with Arthur, begging for mercy he knew wouldn't come. "Please, don't tell Dad... He'd disown me, and I... I don't want to lose my family."
Arthur's gaze was icy, his grip tightening. "You should have been cast out of the Linklater family long ago!"
Dracon looked up, disbelief etched across his face, then anger. "Why? Why am I the one to go? When you and Hector were away, I was the one who kept this family together, not you!"
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