ELENA’S POV
The click of the officer's handcuffs unholstering sounded through the foyer like a dry branch snapping.
"Hands behind your back, Mrs. Hart," the officer said, stepping into my space.
Damian watched with dead eyes, smoothing his lapel as if I had already been signed away. Up on the landing, Vivienne held my grandmother's mahogany box against her chest like a prize.
Before steel touched my wrists, tires tore across the wet gravel outside.
A black town car braked hard behind the police cruiser. The door swung open, and Victoria Ashford strode in, rain clinging to her navy coat, a stamped court order held high.
"Blackshore Police, stand down," Victoria snapped.
The officer froze, his fingers inches from my sleeve. "Ma'am, this is an active civil warrant—"
"Vacated fifteen m
