The sky over the estate had darkened by mid afternoon, the clouds thick and heavy, matching the tension that gripped every corner of the mansion. The first drops of rain tapped against the glass walls like an urgent drumbeat, echoing the storm that had begun inside.Aurora stood at the balcony, her arms crossed, eyes fixed on the distant horizon where black silhouettes moved steadily toward the estate. The private jet carrying Alexander Ravel had landed hours ago, and the convoy was making its approach with precision. Every detail of their arrival was calculated; nothing was random.Behind her, Adrian, Victor, Marcus, Lucien, Rafael, and Dominic were coordinating the estate’s defenses. Atlas’s holographic map glowed in the center of the command room, projecting every moving piece outside,vehicles, personnel, and even the precise distances between them.Aurora’s pulse thrummed like the rhythm of war drums. Fifteen years of secrets, rivalries, and betrayals were about to converge at her
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