BRIGID'S POV
Who the f**k did Marion think she was? Thinking she could threaten me and survive it. I would f*****g ruin her. I would make sure she paid in full—every last drop.
The moment I pushed the doors to my quarters open, I knew something was off. A chill settled in the room. Not the temperature kind. The kind that lived under the skin and whispered warnings into your bones. My heartbeat thudded louder than my footsteps as I moved through the foyer, every sense on high alert.
"Riona?" I called, voice sharp enough to cut. But there was no answer.
My jaw clenched tight enough to ache. I hated being ignored—loathed it with every fiber of my being. The scent of lavender oil drifted faintly from the lounge, and I followed it, heels tapping out my rising irritation on the marble floor.
