Eloise didn't breathe. She couldn't. Her lungs seemed to have forgotten their function, paralyzed by the chilling, impossible sentence Luciano had just delivered.
His words—"For freeing me"—hung between them like a blade suspended on a single, frayed thread. A terrifying implication of her accidental importance.
A chill rose from the base of her spine, crawling upward until her whole body trembled, not just from the cold, but from the frigid shock of his intent.
Luciano looked almost… pleased. Or perhaps, unshackled was the better word. his posture relaxed in the way only someone who has just finalized a difficult negotiation can be.
As though something heavy—had fallen from his shoulders, the moment she burned the estate and, ironically, sealed her fate with his.
Before Eloise could process the magnitude of his statement, Luciano glanced at the four men standing sentinel in the echoing foyer. His eyes flicked to Marcos, giving a silent command.
