The villa was quiet in the late afternoon, but the air carried tension thick enough to choke on. Shadows clung to the corners, stretching unnaturally as the sun slanted through the windows. Inside, Analees sat on the floor of the west wing, cradling her infant son. Every sound—footsteps on marble, a distant door closing, even the faintest creak of a shutter—made her jump. The baby stirred in her arms, sensing her unease. From somewhere in the hall, Ines’s voice erupted—a high, fractured sound, unconnected to reality. “They’re coming! They’re coming for him! No! I won’t let them!” She screamed again, banging against furniture. Glass shattered somewhere in the distance, and Analees flinched, clutching her son tighter. And then, unmistakably, the villa door opened with authority. Falvio Ashford stepped in, tall, composed, and exuding an aura of control. Every movement was deliberate, calculated. He closed the door behind him, and the sound echoed like a gunshot in the vaulted entry
Last Updated : 2025-10-08 Read more