Aidan’s mansion was quiet that evening, but the tension in the study was different. Maisie’s anger charged the place.
She stood by the window, her arms crossed, glaring out at the manicured lawn as her frustration bubbled to the surface. Behind her, Aidan sat at the desk, calm but firm, his tone measured as he spoke.
“You’re not going to confront him,” he said.
Maisie spun around, her voice rising. “You don’t get it, Aidan! I can’t just sit here and let him destroy everything I worked so hard for!”
Aidan’s gaze was steady, his blue eyes locked on hers. “I get it, Maisie. I understand more than you think. But this isn’t about emotions; this is about strategy. Your grandfather doesn’t play fair. He’s dangerous, and if you try to take him head-on, you’ll lose. Again.”
The word “again” st
