"It's getting chilly, so I knitted you a scarf, Noah."
Noah bent down with a smile. "Thanks, Kate. It's perfect."
As he leaned in, our foreheads touched, close enough to share breath, close enough to make my pulse race.
A spark shot through me, and I recoiled like I'd been burned.
"I should... I should go now..."
I turned to leave, but Noah's fingers closed around my wrist.
"Not so fast," he purred. "I've got someone special for you to meet."
He led me deep into the bowels of the Wilson estate, to a hidden chamber reeking of damp stone and old blood.
At the far end, two figures stood in the flickering torchlight.
One was Eva. The other...
"You? After all these years?!"
Arthur—my father's most trusted aide, the very man who'd driven the nails into his coffin with forged evidence
