The rain had stopped hours ago, but the air still clung to the scent of wet earth and unspoken things. Elena’s heels clicked quietly against the cobblestone path as she followed the faint glow of Damian’s car disappearing down the curved driveway of the old manor. He hadn’t said where he was going—only that he needed to take a call.
A lie.
She had learned to hear the difference in his tone—the softness that meant distraction, the distance that meant secrets. And tonight, he had both.
Elena’s instincts screamed at her to turn back, to trust that whatever he was hiding wasn’t meant for her to see. But curiosity, sharpened by too many unanswered questions, guided her feet instead.
She wrapped her coat tighter and followed the shadows.
The path led her to the far edge of the property, nea
