Michelle
The door creaked open just as I was about to blow out my candle. I gasped, clutching the blanket tighter around my shoulders. Liam stood in the doorway, his shadow spilling across the floor like a stain I couldn't scrub out.
"Liam," I hissed, glancing toward the corridor. "Are you insane? If anyone sees you—"
"No one will," he interrupted, shutting the door behind him with deliberate slowness. His voice was low and sharp, threaded with something dark. "The rest of the maids are asleep. Deep sleep."
My stomach dropped. "What did you do to them?"
He smirked. "Don't act so innocent, Michelle. You wanted privacy, didn't you?"
I stared at him, my pulse thudding in my ears. There was something in his eyes I didn't like—an edge that hadn't been there before, a wild glint that told me he was far too comfortable crossing lines.
