POV: ClaraThe greenhouse smelled of damp earth and rot, a heavy scent that stuck to the back of my throat. It was supposed to be a sanctuary, a glass-walled escape from the marble and steel of the mansion, but even here the air felt thin.I found my mother sitting on a stone bench, her hands folded neatly in her lap as she stared at a patch of drooping lilies. A few feet behind her stood one of Victor’s "security" guards, his face a blank mask of muscle and boredom."Mom," I breathed, stepping toward her.She didn't look up at first. Her eyes stayed fixed on the dying flowers, her shoulders hunched like she was trying to take up as little space as possible.The guard didn't move, but his presence was a wall between us. I sat down beside her, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I lowered my voice to a whisper."I’m looking for a way out, Mom. I’m working with Nikolai. We’re going to get you away from him."She finally turned her head, but there was no hope in her ga
Read more