Allison's POV
The weekend arrived with merciful quiet.
No lawyers, no arguments, no Lucian with his storm-cloud eyes asking questions I couldn't answer honestly.
Just me and my thoughts, which were dangerous company on their own.
I was organizing my research notes when my phone vibrated against the coffee table.
No name, just a number.
My thumb hovered over the decline button—Saturday mornings were sacred in my new life—until recognition sparked.
I knew that number. Victor Storm.
Jasmine stirred within me, a mixture of fondness and caution. *He was always kind to us.*
I hesitated, memories flooding back of the only person in the Storm household who had treated me like family rather than furniture.
Finally, I swiped to answer.
"Hello?"
"Allison," Victor
