The tension in the cramped dining area was thick enough to choke. Elena stood her ground, her hand resting on the back of a chair, looking every bit the protective matriarch.
"I wonder, Mr. Armitage," Elena said, her voice cool and clinical, "why a powerful businessman is so intensely interested in the sleeping habits of another man. You should watch your language; we do not discuss such 'moaning' in front of my children."
Arm straightened his posture, his presence filling the room with a suffocating weight. "There's nothing 'personal' about it, Elena. I was Mild's closest friend for years. I simply remember he was a restless sleeper. I'm concerned for his health."
Elena let out a short, sharp laugh. "A friend? I have many friends, but none of them know if I talk or moan in my sleep. That level of... intimacy... usually belongs to someone else entirely. Don't you think?"
