That evening, I stood at the edge of the garden for a moment before stepping fully into it. The air was cooler than inside the mansion, carrying that quiet, suspended stillness that only late nights could hold. From where I stood, I could already see him.
Victor.
He was there near the far end of the garden path, standing beneath the soft spill of the garden lights like he had forgotten how to rest. His hand was pressed lightly against his jaw, his posture rigid in a way that didn't need explanation. Even without hearing a single word from him, I could tell exactly what kind of thoughts were running through his mind. Heavy ones. Dangerous ones. The kind that never stayed in one place long enough to settle.
Elena's company.
The investigation.
The leaks he was afraid were comings.
The collapse he was trying to prevent.
