Alina spent the remainder of the afternoon drifting in and out of a shallow, healing sleep. After her mother had departed for home, the silence of the mansion felt less like a void and more like a protective cocoon.
Kathleen had left with a look of such absolute serenity that it almost bothered Alina; her mother was trusting Damian Thorn far too much. She didn't see the "Sigma" businessman the world feared; she saw a savior. Alina, however, saw the man who had just claimed her as "his" in a moment of raw, unchecked possessiveness.
A rhythmic, measured knock vibrated through the heavy door, pulling her from her thoughts. She sat up, the silk sheets rustling against her skin.
"Madam, please come out for dinner. The Master is waiting," Alfred's voice drifted in, polite and steady as ever.
