Enna Clark was ordering breakfast in the dining room before she went upstairs.
Upon arrival,
she was startled by a man with slightly red-rimmed black eyes waiting in the Entrance Hall, "Baron Lawrence?"
Wasn't he busy working in his study? Why was he standing here? And why did he look so unwell? Who upset him?
She took a closer look and suddenly drew a cold breath, her eyebrows crimping as she grabbed his left hand, "What happened to your hand?"
The back of his left hand was indeed horrific to look at. Some parts had skin and flesh torn up, some were studded with glass shards. It was obvious that he had just lost his temper.
What kind of problem had he encountered at work to make him so angry?
"Hand?" From the moment she walked in, Baron had been staring at her without blinking, as if trying to bore a hole through her with his gaze.