The night should have been quiet. But quiet in his world always meant something dangerous was about to unfold.
She sat curled on the velvet sofa in the lounge, trying to steady herself, the crumpled DNA report never far from her thoughts. His guards lingered near the door, unusually tense, whispering into earpieces, checking weapons. She noticed every shift in their posture.
"Why are they on edge?" she asked softly, looking up at him as he poured two glasses of wine.
He set one glass in front of her but didn't sit. His shoulders were taut. "Because word travels fast. Too fast."
She frowned. "You mean about… me?"
"Yes." He finally looked at her, his eyes sharp. "Other families have ears everywhere. You being alive, being proven blood, changes the game."
Her chest tightened. "You mean they'll… want me?"
"They'll want to claim you. Or erase you." His tone was flat, deadly calm.
Her breath caught. "Erase me?"
