The mansion was silent when Aria walked in.

Too silent.

The kind that makes every breath sound like thunder.

Her heels clicked softly against the marble, her red gown still glimmering faintly from the party lights. The moment the door shut behind her, the mask she’d worn all night cracked.

She stood still for a heartbeat—then tore at the dress.

The satin ripped down the middle as she yanked it off, gasping, trembling. Her reflection in the mirror stared back—beautiful, powerful, and broken all at once.

Her knees hit the floor.

And then she cried.

Not the soft, quiet kind of crying. No—this was the raw kind. The kind that...