The rain hadn’t stopped. It drummed endlessly against the windows of Rosemary’s apartment, a haunting echo of everything still unresolved between them.

Adrian stood by the door, dripping wet, his breath still ragged from running up the stairs. Rosemary handed him a towel silently, her eyes never leaving his face.

“Are you sure it was her?” she asked at last, her voice trembling.

“I saw the footage myself,” Adrian said, drying his hair quickly. “She was outside your door less than an hour ago.”

Rosemary’s heart pounded. “But… why? She’s already ruined everything. What more could she want?”

Adrian met her gaze. “Control. Power. Revenge. Casandra doesn’t stop until she...