Leora didn't sleep that night.
Her brother's visit had stirred something deep inside her, a guilt she thought she'd buried and a fear she couldn't quite name. Even wrapped in the warmth of her silk sheets and surrounded by velvet walls, she couldn't shake the echo of his warning:
"Get out while you can."
But where would she go?
She had bartered her freedom for a contract sealed in silence. A contract with Don Allerick Moretti, the man her father feared and the world whispered about.
She had signed her soul away, but at least it was hers to give.
The next morning, the house was unusually quiet. That was how she knew something was wrong.
She dressed quickly and descended the marble staircase. The staff avoided her gaze, their lips tight with unspoken tension. Maren wasn't at her usual post, and even Jalen was absent from the hall.
Leora's gut twisted. She headed straight for Allerick's wing.
When she burst through the study doors, she found him surrounded by a half-circle of men,clieutenants, by the look of them. Their conversation died the moment they saw her.
Allerick didn't even blink.
"Close the door behind you," he said coolly.
She did,cbut remained standing.
"I want to know what's going on."
One of the men, a tall, tattooed figure with sharp cheekbones, opened his mouth to protest, but Allerick silenced him with a glance.
"Speak freely," Allerick told her.
She stepped forward, arms folded. "Don't patronize me."
The tattooed man sneered. "This isn't a tea party, sweetheart."
Allerick turned slowly toward him. "That's my wife you're addressing."
The man swallowed his next words.
Leora looked directly at Allerick. "Is this about Zavier?"
"No," he said. "This is about you."
That startled her.
He waved toward one of the guards, who placed a thin black folder on the desk. Allerick flipped it open and pushed it toward her.
Inside were surveillance photos.
Of her.
Talking to Maren. Walking alone in the garden. Reading in the library. And most damning of all, hugging Zavier last night in the foyer.
Leora felt her blood run cold.
"You had me watched?"
"You live under my roof. Of course you were watched."
"I told you Zavier came to warn me."
"I know," Allerick said. "I also know you hesitated. And hesitation in this world can cost lives."
The words stung.
"I didn't betray you," she snapped.
"No. But you forgot what game you're playing."
Leora gritted her teeth. "You want loyalty? Try giving me trust."
Silence fell over the room. Then Allerick dismissed the others with a flick of his hand.
They filed out, some throwing Leora suspicious glances. When the door shut, she turned to him.
"I came to you," she said. "I told you about the call. I didn't have to."
"But you didn't tell me about Zavier until after the fact."
"Because I was still processing the fact that he's alive!"
"Emotions cloud judgment."
"And you're so good at staying cold?"
He didn't answer.
"Why am I here, Allerick?" she asked softly. "Is it just strategy? Spite? Or do you actually believe I can be part of this… life?"
He rolled closer, his gaze locked on hers.
"I believe in control," he said. "And right now, you're the only variable I can't fully account for."
That should've terrified her. But somehow, it made her feel alive.
"I'm not a risk," she said.
"You are," he said, "but maybe you're worth it."
Later that afternoon, Leora found Maren in the laundry room, scrubbing a bloodstain out of a white shirt with furious concentration.
"Maren," she said.
The girl froze, then looked up. Her eyes were red-rimmed.
"Was that yours?" Leora asked gently, nodding to the shirt.
Maren said nothing.
"Talk to me. What happened?"
The girl bit her lip. "They interrogated me this morning."
"Why?"
"Because I helped your brother in," she whispered. "He said he just wanted to see you. I didn't think....."
Leora took her hand. "You were trying to help. They won't hurt you, I'll make sure of it."
But Maren's hands trembled.
"They made me watch them… question someone. Just to remind me what happens to traitors."
Leora's stomach twisted. "They're monsters."
"They're survivors," Maren whispered.
Leora left the room with a fire rising in her chest.
She found Allerick in the training room, watching two of his men spar.
She didn't wait for permission.
"You made her watch torture?"
He didn't look surprised. "She needs to understand what lines not to cross."
"She's a teenager."
"She's a liability."
"She's loyal to me."
"That's exactly the problem," he said. "You think this world has room for compassion. It doesn't. Not here."
Leora walked up to him, toe-to-toe.
"Then maybe you need someone to remind you what it means to be human."
Allerick stared at her.
And, for the first time, she thought she saw a crack in his armor.
That night, she didn't sleep in her room.
She found herself wandering the halls until she reached the wing Allerick rarely let anyone enter.
His personal quarters.
The guards let her through without a word.
She knocked once before entering.
He was at his desk, surrounded by books and a low amber light. He didn't look surprised to see her.
"I'm not here to fight," she said.
"Good," he murmured. "Because I'm tired of war."
She stepped closer. "I want to understand. You. This place. Everything."
His brow lifted. "That's dangerous."
"So am I," she said, then added softly, "You said I was a variable. What happens if I prove you can count on me?"
His voice dropped. "Then maybe I stop seeing you as a risk."
"And start seeing me as what?"
He looked at her for a long moment. "As someone I don't want to lose."
Her breath caught.
"I don't need you to protect me from pain," she said. "I just need you to stop using it like a weapon."
Allerick closed the book in front of him.
"You're not like anyone I've met."
"Is that a good thing?"
"It's the most dangerous thing," he said.
She didn't leave that night.
They didn't touch, but they talked. About old books. About their childhoods. About nightmares they never voiced out loud.
And somewhere in the silence, something fragile and dangerous began to grow.