Marudas stood rigid, the weight of every eye in the drawing room pressing into him. His face was drawn, his shoulders heavy as if shame itself had settled there. For once, the proud man looked stripped of his pride, exposed like a prisoner waiting for judgment. His eyes swept across them—Kate's silence, Sofia's fury barely masked, Nerine's trembling curiosity—and in that moment, he looked the most miserable of them all.
Kael's voice cut through the suffocating stillness.
"Explain," he commanded, his words sharp and cold. "Enough with shadows and half-truths. Tell them what happened."
Marudas' lips parted, but no sound came at first. His gaze dropped, and memories flickered in his eyes as though he were being dragged backward through time.
The drawing room blurred. The years unraveled.
The Maroudas mansion, years ago.
