The weight of it all settled in my gut, a leaden mass of realization and fury. Sophia, gone because of a childish, twisted act of sabotage. Isabella, nearly destroyed by a calculated smear campaign orchestrated by Caden and enabled by Clara. And I, oblivious, a pawn in a game I hadn't even known was being played.
I sat back slowly, my pulse a dull, steady drum in my ears. My thumb traced the edge of the armrest, leather groaning under the pressure.
"Where the fuck is Clara?"
My voice came out quiet — too quiet for the violence burning through my chest.
Gray straightened, his posture shifting almost imperceptibly. "Sir…"
"Because the last time I saw her," I continued, voice calm but edged with steel, "she was in custody. I made sure she'd stay that way. So tell me — how the hell did she and Caden get back in contact?"
