Naomi’s POV
The hallway echoed under my heels as I made my way toward the library. I wasn’t looking for a book—at least not the kind you read. I needed silence, a place to think. But more than that, I needed space from him.
Raymond.
Ever since the dinner, he’d been acting differently, not cold—but careful. Like he was watching me and not just with his eyes. With his mind.
I pushed the door open and stepped in.
The smell of leather and old pages wrapped around me, dust motes floated in golden slivers of light. Everything about this place screamed power and legacy, Darlington legacy.
Not mine.
I traced my fingers over the spine of a book I didn’t bother reading and stared out the window. Somewhere down that winding driveway, the world moved. But up here, time felt like it held its bre
