Adrian’s POV.
The heavy oak door closed behind me with a thud that echoed through the empty foyer.
Silence. The kind that lived in Cross mansion for five years after Lyara left. Cold marble under my shoes. Portraits on the wall watching me like judges.
I hated that sound. Hated how my footsteps bounced off the high ceiling and came back to me. Hated how dropping my keys on the console table sounded like a gavel.
Footsteps. Fast. Too fast.
“Adrian? Where are you coming from?”
Lila’s voice came from the living room. She stepped into the hallway, phone in one hand, the other clutching the hem of her dress like she was trying to hold herself together.
The chandelier light hit her face and made her look pale. Her eyes scanned me. Suit wrinkled. Tie loose. Shirt untucked on one side. I
