Elira didn’t hesitate.
The moment the address hit her phone, she was gone—no backup, no questions. Just one need: Get to Amira.
The abandoned manor stood crooked on the cliffs like a haunted thing, wind screaming through broken windows. Red petals scattered the stone path, crimson like spilled secrets. The sea roared below.
And at the top of the crumbling staircase stood Valencia—a ghost in red silk and heels, smiling like she’d won.
“You came alone,” she said, voice dripping with delight.
“I always do the hardest things alone,” Elira replied coldly.
“I was hoping Damien would come,” Valencia pouted. “But of course… you’re the one with the stronger spine.”
Elira didn’t bother with games. “Where’s my daughter?”
“She’s… safe. For now.” A pause. “You were never supposed to keep her, y
