The moon sagged low in the sky, a pale silver disc hovering above the Vexley estate like it was standing guard. Its glow spilled over the sculpted lawns and the endless hedges trimmed so perfectly they looked unnatural, hemming in the mansion like a fortress. The estate slept, but not peacefully—the silence was too sharp, too watchful, as though even the trees and the wind knew this house was a place of secrets and betrayals.
Upstairs, in the grand bedroom that belonged to her only in name, Eliana Bennett walked in frantic circles. The plush ivory carpet swallowed the sound of her bare feet, but it did nothing to soften her agitation. Her chest rose and fell quickly, and every turn she made only pressed the walls in tighter. A crystal chandelier glittered above her, its prisms scattering moonlight across the silk-draped four-poster bed. To anyone else, the room would have been a dream—luxury carved into every detail. To Eliana, it was just a cage dressed in silk.
