Mikhail’s POVThe mansion had never been this quiet before.Not even after deaths.Not after funerals.Not after bloodshed.This silence was different.It felt hollow.Rotting.Like the entire house had finally become what Nora always called it from the very beginning.A cage.The flowers in the living room had died days ago. Nobody bothered replacing them anymore. The roses I once filled the mansion with for her had withered into dark brittle things before the maids finally threw them away. Even the marble halls felt colder now, stripped of the warmth her presence unknowingly brought into them.I spent most days locked inside my office.When I was not working, I was drinking.And when I was not drinking, I was staring at the ceiling unable to sleep because every time I closed my eyes, I saw blood soaking through Nora’s clothes while she cried about our baby.Our baby.Even now, two weeks later, the words still carved through me like glass.The whiskey burned going dow
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