By the time Raya arrived at the Hart family estate, the sun had fully risen, bathing the grand compound in a soft golden glow. The mansion looked exactly as it always did, immaculate, intimidating, and quietly powerful. Staff moved around with rehearsed efficiency, decorations already in place, white and gold ribbons flowing like restrained luxury.
Juliana Hart's birthday was never loud, never chaotic. It was refined celebration, the kind meant for people who already had everything.
Raya stepped out of the car carefully, Grigor immediately at her side as usual.
Anyone watching would think nothing was out of place.
But Raya felt it.
The dull throb in both hands, tightly wrapped in clean white bandages, reminded her of the morning disaster she wished she could erase. Every movement pulled at her skin, and the faint sting was enough to keep her alert, too alert.
"Easy," Grigor murmured quietly as she descended. "Don't rush."
