CHAPTER 38 — DRAWING LINES IN BLOOD AND LOYALTY
The mansion didn't feel like a home anymore—
it felt like a battlefield that hadn't yet seen its first gunshot.
And Elena could feel the shift everywhere.
The staff moved quietly, eyes lowered, as if afraid that the walls might listen and report back to Alexander Kane. Guards doubled at the entrances. Doors that were normally open were now locked. Even the air felt charged—thick with tension, warning of the storm that Adrian's father had promised.
Elena stood by the large window in Adrian's private wing, arms wrapped around herself, watching the rain streak down the glass like silver threads. The sky outside was dark, heavy, restless—mirroring the unease inside her chest.
Behind her, the door opened softly.
Adrian stepped in.
