Sandy's POV
Charles had vanished without escalating the chaos further.
Yet his departure brought no relief. His cryptic warnings and veiled threats lingered in the air like smoke, choking me with uncertainty.
The grand hall stretched before us, eerily quiet now that the celebration had ended. Empty champagne glasses dotted abandoned tables, and wilted flower arrangements cast shadows across the marble floor. The Packhouse felt hollow, drained of the evening's forced merriment.
Only five souls remained in this cavernous space. Grey's family had clustered into defensive positions without conscious thought. My brothers pressed themselves against the far wall like cornered animals, while Warren positioned herself near the exit, her predatory gaze tracking the final guests as they fled the suffocating tension.
