"Take it slow, Dad." Elara murmured, her arm securely around her father, guiding him through the doors of their mansion.Behind them, Patrick stepped across the threshold, shutting the door.She carefully settled her father into his favorite leather armchair in the main sitting room.Almost instantly, one of their household maids came out, her expression tight with anxiety."Welcome home, Mr. Pierce." she said quickly.Her father merely offered adistant nod, his eyes fixed on the empty floorboards.Elara looked at the maid. "Please, fetch him a glass of water." The maid nodded and hurried off toward the kitchen.Elara knelt beside his chair, her heart aching at how diminished he looked."Dad, the doctor was very specific. You need to rest. No phones, no business talk, just quiet."Her father didn't look at her; his gaze remained entirely trapped in his own thoughts."Rest is a something I can no longer afford, Elara." he whispered, "Not with his shadow hanging over this family."Elar
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