The blood was the first thing I noticed.
It bled in thick, crimson stripes across the pristine marble, a vivid contrast to the opulent floors that James boasted of. My stomach churned at the sight of the corpse lying out in the hallway, his throat slit open.
I recognized that face.
Victor.
I pulled quick, terrified breaths of air. I jerked back, my heel caught in the rug, but James' hand shot out and caught me as I was falling.
"Easy," he growled, his tone ominously relaxed.
I struggled out of his arms. "What have you done?"
James exhaled deeply as if frustrated by the question. "I didn't do it, sweetheart. But someone did. And he's dead now."
I wrapped my hands around my mouth, swallowing the bile that slithered up my throat. My mind screamed for this to be a mistake. Perhaps he w
