Davina Hughes's POV
Silence filled the penthouse like a held breath. Perhaps whoever had been at the door had given up? Perhaps they assumed no one was home. I let myself breathe again, clinging to that fragile hope.
Then the distinct sound of a key sliding into the lock destroyed my momentary peace. The door swung open with a soft creak, and my breath seized in my chest.
A woman stepped through the doorway, radiating refined authority and undeniable presence. Louise Jenkin, Irvin's mother.
My eyes flew wide, my entire body going rigid.
I froze like prey caught in a predator's gaze—unable to move, unable to find my voice.
Louise entered with measured steps, her heels tapping against the floor. She stopped short when she spotted me, confusion creasing her elegant features.
"Who are you?" Louise's tone stayed controlled yet commanding, threaded with intrigue and underlying wariness.
