A man stepped into the foyer, silhouetted against the amber glow of the hallway lights. He was tall, his frame draped in a charcoal-grey suit of wool and silk that clung to his shoulders with bespoke precision.
As he moved into the living room, the light caught the refined angles of his face—a face Emilia hadn't seen in nearly five years.
"Adrian?" Emilia’s voice was a mere breath, caught between shock and a sudden, sharp memory of a life she had almost forgotten.
Adrian Kade smiled, a slow, polished expression that radiated the easy confidence of old money and international success.
He didn't look at the disarray of the room or the man still kneeling on the floor; his eyes moved straight to Aunt Bethany.
"Aunt Bethany," Adrian said, his voice a rich, cultivated baritone. He stepped
