Fernando's lips curved into a proud smile as he clasped his son's shoulders, giving him a firm, masculine pat. "Son."
Damien returned the gesture with a restrained smile of his own before Fernando stepped back and lowered himself onto the couch.
Dominique stood a few feet away, leaning lazily against the wall. His arms were folded across his chest, one boot crossed in front of the other, gaze fixed downward in brooding silence.
Damien dragged the chair away from the desk and turned it to face his father before sitting down.
"I'm glad you're back," Fernando said, his deep voice thick with sincerity. There was no mistaking the genuine happiness in his eyes at seeing his son after so long.
"I'll leave once this issue is settled," Damien replied evenly.
Fernando inclined his head. The words might have stung, but if they did, he gave no sign of it.
"What's going on?" he asked.
