جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 30

Samuel was waiting in the car outside, as always. He opened the door for her, his expression professionally neutral."Home, Mrs. Mercer?"Amira almost said yes. But then she thought of the empty house, of waiting around until tonight's dinner, of more hours trapped in Leon's world."Actually," she said impulsively, "can we make a stop first? There's a fabric district downtown. I'd like to see it."Samuel hesitated. "Mr. Mercer didn't mention any additional stops.""I'm not asking Mr. Mercer. I'm asking you." Amira met his gaze steadily. "Unless you need his permission to take me anywhere?"Something flickered in Samuel's eyes. Respect, maybe. Or warning."The fabric district," he said finally. "But we'll need to be back by five. You have to prepare for a dinner meeting.""That's fine."The drive took forty minutes through midday traffic. Amira spent most of it staring out the window, watching the city transform from glass towers to older buildings, industrial spaces converted into bou

The Mercer estate was dark when they returned, only the security lights casting long shadows across the driveway. Amira moved through the foyer with practiced grace, her heels clicking against marble, each step echoing in the cavernous space."Good night," she said to Leon without looking back."Wait."She stopped, her hand on the banister. Behind her, she heard the tap of his cane, the deliberate footsteps closing the distance between them."Tomorrow you have another session with Vivienne. Nine o'clock, not ten. She wants extra time for posture work.""Fine.""And Friday, we're attending the opera. Box seats. The mayor will be there, along with several key investors." Leon's voice was clinical, listing obligations like items on a spreadsheet. "Wear the burgundy gown.""The one I haven't seen yet?""It arrived this afternoon. It's in your closet."Of course it was. Everything was decided for her. Everything controlled."Anything else?" Amira asked, her voice tight.Leon tilted his hea

Elena's studio was exactly as Amira remembered—organized chaos, bolts of fabric stacked floor to ceiling, the hum of sewing machines mixing with the chatter of designers hunched over cutting tables.Elena looked up from a cascade of emerald silk and smiled. "Amira Mercer. I wondered if you'd come back.""You said you had space available.""I do." Elena set down her scissors. "Come. I'll show you."She led Amira through the main workroom, past designers who glanced up with curiosity before returning to their work. At the back, Elena unlocked a door Amira hadn't noticed before."It's small," Elena said, pushing the door open. "But it has good light and access to the main studio resources."The space was maybe two hundred square feet—a window overlooking the street, a cutting table, two dress forms, and shelves along one wall. Basic. Simple.Perfect."How much?" Amira asked."Three thousand a month. First and last upfront. Utilities included, but you provide your own materials."Six thou

The nightmare came in fragments. Fire is crawling up walls like living things. A woman's scream was cut short. Smoke thick enough to drown in. And through it all, Leon's voice—calm, controlled, telling her to *run*. Amira woke gasping, sheets twisted around her legs like restraints. The clock read 3:47 AM. Her room pressed in from all sides, the darkness absolute except for the sliver of moonlight cutting across the floor. She reached for her phone, then stopped. The emails. The messages. Someone out there knew Leon's secrets and wanted her to know them too. But who? And why feed her information in pieces instead of simply telling her everything? Unless they couldn't. Unless they were afraid. Or unless they were testing her. Seeing how far she'd go. Amira threw off the covers and moved to the window. The estate grounds sprawled below, security lights casting long shadows across manicured lawns. Somewhere in this house, Leon was either sleeping or prowling. She'd heard him i

The terrace overlooked the estate gardens—roses in regimented rows, hedges trimmed to geometric precision, fountains that never stopped flowing. Beautiful and suffocating in equal measure. Leon was already seated when Amira arrived, a light lunch spread before him. He'd removed his jacket, rolled his shirtsleeves to his elbows. Almost casual. Almost human. "Sit," he said without preamble. Not even a please anymore. Amira took the chair across from him, smoothing her dress before settling. The sun beat down, too bright, too hot. Sweat gathered between her shoulder blades. "You're tense," Leon observed. He reached for his water glass, fingers wrapping around it with absolute certainty. "Worried about something?" "Giselle called. Wants lunch tomorrow." "And?" "And I'm wondering what she's planning." Leon's mouth quirked. "Giselle is always planning something. It's her nature. Scorpions sting, Giselle manipulates." He took a sip of water, set the glass down precisely where it had