The Donovan estate study was cloaked in silence, broken only by the crackle of the fireplace.
Tristan stood near the window, watching the rainwater streak down the glass even though the storm had long passed.
Charlie entered the room quietly, placing a folder on the desk. "It's done. The shipment was rerouted, and no one would be able to trace it back."
Tristan nodded, flipping through the documents. "Good work, Charlie.
We can't afford another slip. Father is right. The family's stability depends on how we keep control."
Charlie hesitated. "How about the other matter?"
Tristan's jaw tightened. "Handled. No one will be coming to ask questions."
The words were clean and efficient, but the weight behind them pressed harder than usual. Perhaps because for the first time in years, something else gnawed at him.
Not something, but someone.
"Ellie Everett," Charlie said quietly, as if reading his brother's thoughts.
Tristan froze, eyes narrowing. "Leave her out of this, Charlie."
"I didn't bring her in," Charlie said simply. "It's you, whether you meant to or not."
The silence stretched, thick with an unspoken truth. Tristan turned his back to the window, hiding the flickering of emotion that betrayed him.
"She doesn't belong in this world," he muttered. "And I can't and won't drag her into it."
Yet, even as he said it, her face lingered in his mind.
The softness of her eyes. The way she had looked at him last night, as though he wasn't just a Donovan.
For the first time, Tristan Donovan felt the sharp edge of a war he wasn't sure he could win.
The empire in his blood and the woman lingering in his mind who was becoming impossible to forget.