BRAHAM’S POVThe master bedroom was a testament to Raphael Harvey’s cowardice and Sabrina’s ego.The walls had been repainted a soft, sickly cream, and the heavy velvet curtains that June had loved according to the little Millie could remember were gone, replaced by light, airy silks. It was a room designed to forget the dead. As I stepped over the threshold, the scent of the room hit my wolf senses like a physical blow—Raphael’s lingering scent of expensive tobacco and fear, mixed with the cloying, synthetic musk Sabrina used to mask her true nature.They had slept here. They had celebrated here while June’s daughter grew up down the hall, oblivious to the blood on the sheets.Millie was already in the ensuite bathroom, her sneakers walking frantically on the marble as she tapped on the tiles. "Help me search, Braham! The key said bedroom, it has to be here!"Renan who got here earlier stood by the door, his eyes scanning the room with tactical detachment. "We’ve searched the walls,
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