Morning came too softly for a house holding secrets.
Elara woke before the sun, the weight of the night still pressing against her chest. The mansion was quiet—too quiet. That was how Bianca liked things. Silence made it easier to move without being noticed.
She dressed quickly and slipped downstairs.
The kitchen lights were already on.
Bianca stood at the counter in a silk robe that wasn't hers, pouring herself coffee like she owned the place.
"Good morning, sister," Bianca said sweetly, without turning around.
Elara stopped short. "That's not your robe."
Bianca glanced down at herself and smiled. "It was in the guest room closet. I assumed it was provided."
"It wasn't."
"Oh." Bianca took a slow sip. "Then I suppose I'll keep it. Sharing has never been your strength."
Elara clenched her jaw.
"You shouldn't be up this early," Bianca continued. "Dominic prefers his mornings quiet. He likes control. You must know that by now."
Elara met her gaze. "You don't know him."
Bianca laughed softly. "I know men like him. Powerful. Untouchable. Easily bored." She tilted her head. "And when they get bored, they look elsewhere."
Elara stepped forward. "If you're trying to provoke me—"
"I'm trying to warn you." Bianca's smile sharpened. "Because when he realizes you're not enough, I don't want you blaming me."
The air shifted.
Elara felt something solid settle in her spine.
"I've blamed you my whole life," she said quietly. "This won't be new."
Bianca's eyes flashed—just for a second.
Then footsteps sounded behind them.
Dominic entered the kitchen, dressed in black, his presence immediate and commanding.
His gaze went straight to Bianca.
"Why are you wearing that?"
Bianca glanced down, unbothered. "A mistake."
"Fix it," he said coldly.
Bianca stiffened, then shrugged and set her cup down. "Of course."
She brushed past Elara deliberately, shoulder grazing hers.
Elara didn't move.
Didn't flinch.
Dominic watched the exchange closely.
When Bianca left, he turned to Elara. "Did she threaten you?"
"No," Elara said. "She tested me."
"And?"
Elara met his gaze. "I didn't bend."
A pause.
Then, unexpectedly, Dominic smiled—just a little.
"Good."
He moved closer, lowering his voice. "Because I won't always be there to stop her words. You'll need to stop them yourself."
"I can."
"I know." His eyes softened. "That's why she's afraid."
Elara swallowed. "She's not afraid of me."
"She will be."
The words sent a shiver down her spine.
Dominic reached out, hesitated, then placed his hand over hers on the counter. Not claiming. Not demanding.
Steadying.
"We draw lines today," he said. "With her. With everyone."
Elara nodded slowly. "Together."
Outside, Bianca watched from the hallway, nails digging into her palm.
The game had changed.
And she knew it.