The carriage rolled to a quiet stop beneath the stone archway of the secluded estate long after midnight. The rain had finally ceased, but droplets still fell lazily from the roof tiles, striking the marble courtyard with soft, rhythmic taps. Olivia barely noticed them. Every muscle in her body screamed with sheer, bone-deep exhaustion; the confrontation with Roland had drained what little strength she still possessed. Every calculated smile, every cold lie, every measured word in that study had been another blade pressed against her own throat.
The moment the servants pushed open the massive oak doors, she stepped into the dimly lit entrance hall, expecting only silence. Instead, heavy, furious footsteps echoed from the western hallway—rapid and unyielding.
Leon emerged, his coat still damp from the night's rain and his jaw clenched so tightly that the muscles along his face visibly twitched. The moment his eyes landed on her, his fragile restraint shattered entirely.
