Devon's anger seethed beneath his surface, a fiery turmoil ignited by Francis's thoughtless actions.

“Is that what you called me for?” Devon's voice held a sharp edge, his frustration palpable. Francis nodded his head with a naive enthusiasm that only served to amplify Devon's irritation.

“My dear wife, would you please excuse us for three minutes?” Devon's voice dropped into a low, threatening tone. Isadora happily agreed, unaware of the gravity of what she had inadvertently set in motion by releasing Francis.

Devon firmly grasped Francis's trembling hands, his grip a mix of anger and warning. He leaned in, his voice a venomous whisper that promised dire consequences.

“I promise...