CHAPTER 25: THE BALCONY SHOWDOWN
(SAVIOUR’S POV)
My arm stayed clamped around Lorain’s waist like a band of iron as we mounted the grand marble staircase of Hart Manor.
With every step we took, the hum of classical strings below seemed to fade, replaced by the suffocating weight of fifty high-society eyes pinned to our backs. Lorain was breathing through her nose, her posture rigid, her small fingers clutching the crystal champagne glass so tightly I thought the glass might shatter in her grip.
"Don't look at them," I growled softly into her hair, my voice too low for the guests near the landing to hear. "Look at me."
"I see my mother, Saviour," Lorain whispered back, her voice laced with a quiet, devastating pain that made my chest ache. "She won't even raise her head."
Up on the me
