“Hey! What is going on here? What are you doing to my wife?"

All eyes darted toward the door, where Theodore had just arrived.

He was adorned in clean, comfortable, light-colored clothing and sitting in a wheelchair with a soft blanket on his lap. Despite being seated, he had an air of power and nobility that commanded the room. He shot lasers at Brielle.

“What did my wife do to deserve you pulling her hair?" he demanded. Brielle, who had been feeling self-important, was caught off guard and began to stutter.

"I... I didn't pull her hair."