The executive boardroom finally emptied, leaving a heavy, suffocating silence in its wake. Emilia Becker and George retreated, their footsteps echoing like fading drumbeats in the corridor. Evelyn stood up, her fingers trembling slightly as she gathered her documents. She had reclaimed her name, but the weight of being a Sin in a den of Thorns was a burden she felt in every bone.
Just as she reached the heavy doors, a low, dangerous vibration in Michael Thorn's voice stopped her.
"When did I ever tell my mother I was picking up a wedding dress with you?" Michael demanded, his eyes fixed on Erica Jones with a coldness that could freeze blood.
"I don't seem to have any knowledge of this arrangement."
