Arora took one final, slow glance around the quiet bedroom before stepping back out into the hallway.
Her dark eyes chased every corner, every shadow, and every faint trace of Kelvin left behind in that apartment—and something deep inside her chest tugged with a sharp, suffocating pain. This small, sunlit flat held entire years of secrets she had never known. Memories she had never been allowed to share. A quiet, gentle life her brother had built and lived entirely without her knowledge, far away from the blood-stained throne of the Black Rose.
She swallowed the ache down into the dark, cold depths of her throat. Emotion was a luxury she couldn't afford—not today, not when Jennie was in the hands of mercenaries, and not when the unborn child inside her carried Winland blood.
