Richard, who had been standing outside the treatment room, felt the blood drain from his face when his eyes landed on Owen. The man strode down the corridor with the same arrogance as ever, flanked by his men, yet what froze Richard in place wasn't Owen's presence. It was Evelyn, walking beside him.
She looked pale, her eyes wide with fear, her lips pressed tightly as though holding back sobs. Richard's chest tightened painfully.
"What are you doing here?" Richard demanded, his voice rough, unsteady. His breathing grew heavier the longer his gaze lingered on his wife.
He had been so careful all this time, guarding her day and night, knowing Owen's obsession and cruelty could one day reach her. But today, today, with everything falling apart at once, he had slipped. For a moment, he'd allowed his focus to scatter. And Owen had seized it.
