The estate lay quiet under a thick blanket of night, its sprawling wings dark and still except for the faint hum of security systems and the distant whisper of wind against stone. Inside the conference room, Rashel sat alone, eyes fixed on the glowing screen of her laptop, fingers moving with purpose over the keys.
The air smelled faintly of Jethro’s perfume and old wood, and the soft ticking of the antique clock marked time in steady beats.
Her body ached from long hours of sitting in one place and her pregnancy, which was now an obvious bulge at five months. But her mind was sharp, scanning lines of data, cross-referencing encrypted logs, searching for the ghost of a traitor in her midst. Though she tried to focus, a creeping sense of unease crawled beneath her skin, prickling her nerv
