Elena’s pov

Mr. Nik’s hand guided me gently but firmly toward a set of glass doors at the far end of the sitting room. I went without resistance, acutely aware of the stares that followed us, of Liana’s burning gaze between my shoulder blades, of the soft murmur of voices that started the moment we were out of immediate earshot.

The garden room was cooler, flooded with soft afternoon light. Tall windows overlooked a meticulously maintained rose garden. White furniture. Pale stone floors. The scent of flowers drifted in through open panels. It should have felt peaceful. Instead it felt like the eye of a storm.

The moment the door...