The grand dining hall of Madeleine Blackwood’s estate was as intimidating as the woman herself. Tall windows stretched to the ceiling, flooding the space with morning light, yet the chill in the room remained. Julian sat at the head of the long mahogany table, his expression unreadable as he poured himself a cup of coffee.
Emily sat beside him, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. It had been a long time since she had felt this kind of tension—one that had nothing to do with business rivalries or threats from the outside world. This was personal.
Madeleine entered, her presence as regal as ever, her silver-streaked hair pinned into an elegant twist. She took her seat across from them, her gaze resting on Emily for a beat too long.
“You look well,” she said at last, her tone measured.
