The iron gates of Sterling Mansion opened slowly.
Silently.
Almost mockingly.
The long driveway stretched beneath Dominic Sterling’s headlights like an accusation.
Grand.
Cold.
Merciless.
The mansion rose in the darkness ahead—
all white stone and towering windows.
Elegant.
Imposing.
And tonight—
it felt haunted.
Dominic barely remembered parking the car.
Barely remembered killing the engine.
The whiskey still burned in his blood.
Hot.
Bitter.
His tie hung loose around his neck.
His shirt collar was open.
His hair was a mess.
And rage—
rage sat sharp and poisonous beneath his ribs.
He slammed the car door hard enough for the sound to echo through the estate.
The front doors opened before he reached them.
Laura stood there.
Still in the gold sequined gown.
Still f
