The place of quiet, Julian promised, was a secluded villa tucked away by a private lake. There were no flashing cameras, no ringing phones, and no shadows of the past.
For the first time in a decade, Amara felt the weight of the Pedro Empire lift off her shoulders.
In the afternoon, they found an old grand piano in the villa's sunroom. Amara sat at the keys, her fingers hesitating, remembering how she had paid for Seren's lessons only to be insulted.
Jullian sat beside her, his shoulder brushing hers. "Play for yourself this time, Amara. Not for anyone else."
Together, they played a soft, wandering melody. It wasn't perfect, but the sound of their laughter filling the room was better than any professional concert.
