Elizabeth POV The hallway was quiet, way too quiet. My footsteps barely made a sound on the thick carpet, but inside, my heart was pounding like I was walking into forbidden territory. Because I was. Christian’s room was off-limits. Everyone in this house knew that. Nana had been too ill to get out of bed tonight, and for some reason, she trusted me to bring him the whiskey he asked for. Me, of all people. I hesitated outside his door, then turned the knob slowly. It creaked open with a weighty groan, like the room itself disapproved of my presence. I stepped in slowly, the door clicking shut behind me. I clutched the bottle of whiskey tighter, trying not to feel how out of place I was. His room was dark. Not in the sense of light, but in mood. The walls were painted a rich charcoal, heavy curtains were pulled halfway over the tall windows, and the only source of light came from a lamp near the bed—low and golden, casting long shadows across the floor. I took in the sp
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