The house was silent. Too silent.
Sierra walked the hallway in bare feet, her pulse echoing in her ears louder than her steps. Damien had gone to his study after the gala, his voice still sharp in her mind. Trust me. Don’t doubt. Don’t ask.
But Eleanor’s words would not let her rest. Ask her yourself.
Sierra reached the sitting room. The door was slightly ajar, a sliver of lamplight spilling into the hall. She pushed it open.
Vanessa sat in a velvet armchair, legs crossed, robe of midnight silk draped around her like liquid shadow. She was sipping red wine, staring out the window as though she had been waiting all along.
“Can’t sleep?” Vanessa asked without turning.
Sierra’s throat tightened. “Neither can you.”
The First Move
Vanessa finally looked at her, eyes glimmering with amus
